Don't Remember Me
by Your Beating Heart
Summary: "Eren…" the sound of his name coming off this person's tongue is intimately familiar and painfully nostalgic. "Don't remember me..." But how can Eren possibly forget something that he doesn't remember to begin with? Eren is a fifteen-year-old boy, with anger issues, a bottle of pills, and dreams that feel too real to be only that. Reincarnation/modern day [Ereri]
1. Chapter 1

Mutilated corpses piled high—limbless, headless, gutless… Still silence blankets this battleground. Gore is strewn in all directions like humanity has imploded, and now their forgotten remains soak the dust in a red sea. _This is the end, isn't it?_ Blood rains like the tears of a higher power, and the air is heavy and humid with raw carnage. Eren struggles to breathe. It's as if he's breathing through a soaked cloth. Vapor burns his lungs with each inhale. He keels over, dry heaving.

_What is this place?_ Eren runs. He tears over lifeless crumples around him faster than he knew he could. His lungs stitch. His heart hammers too quickly. It hurts. Not a single person is whole as he races through what's left of this wasteland. He doesn't know why he runs. He doesn't know where he runs. He just… runs... as if that's all he knows.

_Please… _let_ him _be okay…

Wait… who?

He stops.

A lone body is sprawled out a few meters away. He's not sure why, but he's drawn to this particular one. His knees tremble as he approaches.

Blood splatters the face that is so familiar, yet when he wracks his brain, he can't remember this person at all. The limbs are crushed, and the uniform the person wears is shredded and tattered. Falling to his knees, Eren stares. This person isn't a pretty sight, but even with all the grime and blood Eren can't look away. Reaching out, his fingertips touch a cold face. The eyes twitch and slowly break open. Faded and half-lidded, they focus on Eren. This person is…

"Please, don't fall asleep," Eren cracks, breathless. Tears pull in his eyes as he gently lifts the head into his lap. There's a pained hiss, and a feeble breath leaves blue, cracked lips. Then the eyes that Eren can almost remember fall shut. "No! Don't you dare close your eyes!"

Those familiar eyes open again. "So loud…" The voice is silent.

"You can't—!_ Don't_…" Eren's voice fails, "leave me here." This person that he doesn't know is the only thing keeping Eren together. Without this person, he might as well join the rest of the forgotten humanity.

The mouth opens, and Eren can barely make out what is said—the words are a weak gasp, blood gurgling in the back of the mouth as they're choked out. These words cut Eren like a blade. "Eren…" the sound of his name coming off this person's tongue is intimately familiar and painfully nostalgic. "Don't remember me..."

But how can Eren possibly forget something that he doesn't remember to begin with? Those eyes fall shut again. They don't reopen.

Eren holds this person. "I'm so sorry." He wishes apologies were more than just useless words. This person… just who is this person? Mashing his mouth against cold, split lips, he closes his eyes and tries so hard to remember. _Who are you? …and why do you make my heart ache?_

"Wake up, Eren. We have class."

Eren's eyes snap open, and he sits up. At first he's disoriented. He doesn't know where he is. At last he realizes he's dozed off during lunch hour again.

Mikasa stands over him, with a stony look, but it quickly fades. "You're crying."

"Huh?" Wiping at his eyes, he realizes they're wet. Quickly, he dries them on the back of his wrist, and Mikasa lowers into a crouch next to him.

"What were you dreaming about that was so sad?"

His eyes falling to the ground, he shrugs. "I can't remember…"

When he looks up at Mikasa again, her dark eyes penetrate deep into his, and for a moment she says nothing. "We're going to be late," she mutters.

They climb to a stand then head to class.

Being a sophomore in high school is the life Eren Jaeger lives. It's a simple life with days of tedious routine. The brick walls of this school keep him trapped, but the thing is Eren is a free person. Being caged in this world like cattle isn't something he's comfortable with. He will find a way to break free of the boundaries holding him inside these walls though. He just doesn't know how yet. But he does know that it definitely doesn't start here in this classroom.

"Fight!"

Eren whips around as crowds of students run past him. A fight? Squeezing through scrambling students, he hears the struggle before he sees it. Stretching onto his toes, he searches over the bobbing heads around him. There's a loud crash as someone is thrown against the lockers that line the hallway.

"Leave him alone!" Eren snarls as he breaks through the line of people.

The massive bastard that has Armin shoved up against the wall turns on his heel, an ugly, unkind sneer twisting his face. "Make me."

Fiery rage bubbles up inside Eren, and he's swinging his fists at these punks before anyone can blink an eye. He hits the asshole square in the jaw, and the guy doubles over, but someone else grapples Eren from behind, slinging him against the metallic lockers. Ruthless knuckles connect with his gut. All the air is knocked out his lungs. A wince pulling at Eren's face, a guy fists a handful of his hair and yanks his head backward. It's uncomfortable—the tendons in Eren's neck strain.

"You're in way over your head," the guy rasps into his ear. "If you were smart, you wouldn't involve yourself in other people's shit."

Eren scoffs, "And if you weren't a total asshole, I wouldn't have to involve myself in this bullshit."

Twisting around and ignoring the pain of his hair being ripped from his scalp, Eren tackles this guy. But Eren is outnumbered and these guys are twice his size, and soon he's on the floor being kicked at, and punched at, and spit at. Curling up with his arms in front of his face to shield himself, it's proves to be ineffective. Then all of a sudden, it all stops. Eren looks up right as Mikasa throws a guy twice her size over her shoulder and then impales an elbow into another.

"Shit! It's Mikasa!" The assholes make a hasty retreat before Mikasa can unleash her full strength on them.

Chest furiously heaving, Eren remains on the ground. He's still pissed off. His blood is still boiling. What he wants is to go after those assholes and make them pay for touching Armin.

Standing over him, Mikasa offers a hand. "Are you okay?"

Eren grits his teeth. "Check on Armin. He's the one they were beating up on."

Her expression unreadable, Mikasa doesn't move. "You shouldn't charge into a fight when you don't have the power to win."

Glaring and pointedly ignoring her hand, he climbs to his feet. "Who's side are you on?"

Pushing past her, he approaches a ruffled Armin. Limp on the ground, his back is slumped against the wall. Tangled, his long, blonde hair is matted to his scalp with nervous sweat. His face is pasty pale and his busted, bottom lip dribbles fresh blood.

Eren crouches in front of him. "You okay?"

Armin's round, pale-blue eyes shift from the floor to Eren's face. "Eren, I'm sorry. You don't have to fight for me all the time."

Brows furrowing, Eren clicks his tongue against his teeth. "Tch, but if I don't, then who will?" He rises to his feet, extending an open hand. "We're friends. It's what friends do."

Armin stares at Eren's hand, eyes growing moist, his bottom lip trembling. His fingers slowly wrap around Eren's, and he's pulled to his feet. Mikasa rests a comforting hand on Armin's small shoulder.

"Thank you, Mikasa," he says with a grateful smile.

She nods. "Eren and I will protect you."

"Thank you," murmurs Armin.

"Hey, don't worry about it," says Eren.

* * *

They're heading home, walking at a slow pace, feet mindlessly dragging by. The autumn air is crisp, and Eren notices Mikasa shivering. Coming to a halt, she follows suit. He takes hold to the red muffler loosely draped around her neck.

"You have to wear it right. I didn't give this to you so it could hang uselessly around your throat."

A pink color dusting her cheeks, she remains still as Eren's fingers tug and pull at the material, the warm tips brushing over her skin. Once the muffler is settled around her neck properly, they continue walking. They're silent and overhear the loud, obnoxious voices of their classmates nearby. "Did you hear about that gang raid the other night?"

"Yeah, the cops caught 'em all though. And that one officer earned his fourth medal of valor for it."

"What was his name…? Officer Levi or something. They say he's, like, a superhero." Officer Levi may be only a local officer, but he's famous throughout the city, and his face is always plastered on the front pages of newspapers and on television screens. He's constantly being recognized for arresting bad guys and locking them up.

"He took 'em down single-handedly."

"I want to be like that," says Eren. "When I graduate, I'm going to join the police force."

"That's dangerous, Eren. Police officers lose their lives," is Mikasa's even reply.

Eren is sharp. "I can handle it. I'm not weak."

"I never said you were weak."

"I think you can do it," Armin urges with a grin aimed at him, and he sounds entirely confident as if Eren doesn't have any ability to fail.

Mikasa's dark eyes taper. "Don't encourage him, Armin. He doesn't know what he's getting himself in to."

Eren frowns at her. "You can't stop me. This is my choice."

A sigh leaves Mikasa's pink mouth, and her fingers slip into his. "Just…think about it, okay?"

Eren looks at her in wonder, but she's not facing him. Her eyes are straight ahead and her expression is unreadable.

He tugs his hand free. "I'll catch up with you guys later."

"Have a session today?" Armin guesses.

Eren nods.

Mikasa's mouth presses into a line and doesn't say anything. Armin keeps smiling. "Have fun," he says.

Eren snorts. "Your definition of fun and mine must be different, because there's no way in hell therapy could ever be considered fun." Armin's grin doesn't falter as he waves goodbye, then Eren tugs at the straps of his book-bag and heads out.

* * *

"How are you, Eren? Got any news for me?" ask Doctor Hanji, smiling broadly.

He's been attending therapy sessions with Hanji for years now. This small room and this worn couch are all too familiar. Eren feels like his rear has made a permanent imprint in the grey cushions. He likes Doctor Hanji. She's kind and seems to genuinely care about Eren. Thin-framed glasses are settled on the bridge of her curved nose, and her thick, chestnut hair is typically pulled up into a ponytail.

Eren shrugs.

"Well, how are you feeling these days?"

Saying nothing, Eren shrugs again.

Hanji's bright, brown eyes scope him out from behind the lenses of her glasses. "Hmm, you're not very talkative today, which isn't like you at all." Leaning forward, she stares intently at him—it makes him squirm uncomfortably. "Whatcha thinking about?"

His chin falling into the palm of his hand, Eren hunches in his seat. Hesitant and apprehensive, he has to build up the nerve to look Doctor Hanji in the eye. "Am…I crazy?"

Tossing her head back, Hanji lets out a boisterous laugh. When her eyes return to Eren, they appear warm and comforting. "Of course not! Why would you say that?"

Eren takes out the bottle of pills from out of his bag, holding it in the palms of his hands. He rolls it over, and the label reads: take one dose in the morning and one dose in the evening or as instructed by doctor. "But then why do I have to take these pills? Isn't that only for crazy people?"

Hanji pushes her glasses up higher on the bridge of her nose. "I get that question a lot actually, but trust me…you're not crazy. The medication just subdues your anger a little. That way you won't have to fight it all on your own, ya get me?"

Eren is silent before replying. "I get it, but that makes me…hate myself a little." His eyes flick up to Hanji. "I mean why am I this way? Am I a monster?"

Hanji's smile is kind as she shakes her head. "If you're a monster, then we're all monsters. There's nothing wrong with the way you are, Eren."

Eren nods. He'll believe Doctor Hanji, because if he doesn't, he'll continue to doubt himself and that hurts.

"You sound like you've been thinking a lot," she notes. "Are these the only thoughts going through your mind?"

Eren shakes his head. His eyes darting away from her, his reply is slow. "No, I've had other thoughts lately too, but when I try to remember them, they're all fuzzy like my mind won't let me remember."

Thoughtfully, Hanji purses her lips together and taps her pen against her top lip, musing over that. "Can you remember anything at all?"

As if it holds some kind of key to unlocking his memory, Eren searches the air, but there's nothing there. The answers remain locked away. "They're dreams actually. And I have them every time I fall asleep, and when I wake up, there's this agonizing pressure in my chest like something is missing from inside of me." He clutches onto his chest, right over his heart. Right now, the pressure isn't there and he feels as whole as he can, but he's almost afraid to fall asleep most nights. He doesn't want to face that painful emptiness in the morning when he wakes.

"Dreams?"

Eren nods.

"And you can't remember them?"

"Well… There is one thing," he slowly draws out, each syllable dragging from his lips.

Hanji's eyes are on him, and she's not smiling. Her expression is serious, which is strange for her. She's rarely ever this serious during Eren's sessions. It makes him a little nervous. Is something wrong with him after all?

"What is it?"

Eren looks down at his hands. They feel foreign to him. He feels like he doesn't know much about himself anymore. "I don't actually remember seeing a face or even a presence, but I know that there's someone important in my dreams. I can feel it." His fingers curl into loose fists. He knows there's something important that he's missing. Why else would his heart ache this way?

"A person? Is this person a friend or an enemy?"

Eren's shoulders collapse in defeat. His head hurts. The dreams are a void inside his mind. Each time he tries to remember all he comes up with is empty space. "I…" he sighs, "don't know." And he wishes with his entire being that he did.

Hanji leans back in her seat. "Don't sweat it, Eren. I think it'll come back to you. Just keep trying to remember. Maybe if you keep a dream journal, it'll help."

She shuffles through her desk and holds a small notebook in her hand. "Lookie here, I even have a spare." Winking, she tosses it to him. "Just write down anything you might remember immediately after you wake up. It doesn't have to be much. It can even be a single word or letter, anything at all, and next week we'll talk about it, m'kay?"

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

Careful as he turns the knob and opens the front door, it soundlessly swings open, and Eren slinks through. Sneaking by the kitchen where he can hear dishes clinking and clanging together, he tiptoes down the hall. The water is rushing out of the faucet—his mother is washing them, but he doesn't sneak a peek as he passes. Silently, his foot lands on the bottom step to the staircase leading to his room. He's about to step on the second one when his mother's stern voice comes directly from behind him.

"Don't think you can sneak past me, Eren Jaeger."

Crying out a little in shock, he whirls around. She's frowning at him, her arms crossed over her chest. "You got into another fight, didn't you." It's not a question.

A breath of frustration bursts from Eren. "I didn't start it!" he cries defensively. "It was those assholes! They were beating up on Armin again."

"Eren! Watch your mouth," she scolds.

After a few more minutes of angry glowering, her expression softens, and she lets out a sigh. Wiping her hands on the apron strung around her slim waist, she opens her arms towards him. "Come here."

Eren steps forward into the space between them, and they close around him in an embrace. He doesn't return the gesture, but his mother doesn't seem to mind as her arms tighten around him.

"You have a strong heart and good intention, but you have to control your anger. Fighting doesn't solve anything."

Eren grits his teeth. "But if I don't put those guys in their place, who will?"

Looking straight into his eyes, his mother holds him at arms length. "In the end, they'll get what they deserve." She places a warm palm on his cheek. "Promise me you won't charge into any more fights."

Eren looks away. He won't make a promise he can't keep. He won't hesitate to fight those guys again if they land another hand on Armin.

"Please, Eren, promise me." Her wide eyes are pleading.

Eren sighs in defeat. How can he deny his mother when she looks at him that way? "I'll try."

Lips pressed into a stern line, she clearly wants Eren to do more than just try, but she drops the subject. She takes his head and holds him to her chest. "I love you."

"Yeah," he murmurs into the hollow of her collar. "I love you too."

She lets him go and grins. "Dinner will be ready soon. Your father is staying late in the lab again so he won't make it, but I've made your favorite dessert."

Eren's mouth waters at just the thought. "Strawberry crisp with whipped cream on top?"

She winks. "You got it."

"Mmm."

His stomach swollen and stuffed with as much strawberry crisp as he could shove down his throat, he lies in bed, gazing up at the ceiling. Apprehension pits its way in his chest. He sits up and fumbles through his book bag for the notebook Hanji gave him. He sets it on the bedside table with a pen pointed toward him, so that when he wakes up, he'll be able to immediately write down what he remembers. He'll remember this time, and he won't forget again.

Blood flings out of Eren's mouth as something connects with his jaw and he's sent straggling to the side. In a crouch before a crowd of people, his hands are bound behind him. Who are they and why are they staring at him with such wide, terrified eyes? A knee slams into his face, and he doubles over with a groan.

"I believe discipline can only be taught with pain."

That voice…it has no mercy or forgiveness. Does this person hate Eren? The heel of a boot grinds into the back of Eren's skull, and then strong, fingers curl into his hair, and he's jerked upward to look this person in the eye. A dull, cold stare meets him. Does Eren know this person? He thinks that he does.

Eren snaps up straight. Suddenly, he's in his room and that crowd of people that was watching him with such hatred is gone and so are those cold, jaded eyes. Desperately fumbling for the dream journal, Eren frantically scrawls everything he can remember. But he's not quick enough, the images are fading, and then all he can recall is the pain of being kicked around. He rubs his chin. That really hurt…

* * *

"Did you hurt your jaw or something?"

Eren meets Mikasa's eye. "No, why?"

She shrugs, taking a bite from the red apple in her hand. Eren, Mikasa, and Armin sit in the grassy courtyard eating lunch. Technically, students aren't allowed to eat anywhere but in the dining hall, but Eren hates boundaries, so he's convinced Mikasa and Armin to sneak away with him.

"You keep rubbing at it."

Realizing that he's doing just that, his hand falls back to his sandwich, and he takes a bite. He chews silently for a moment. "Do you think you can dream about something you can't remember?"

Armin and Mikasa stare at him with puzzled looks.

"What do you mean?" asks Armin.

Lying against the soft, green grass, Eren folds an arm behind his head and crosses a leg over his knee, watching the clear sky above him. "I don't really know what I'm trying to say. It's just that I've been having these weird dreams, and they're all I can think about."

"What are they about?"

Eren lets out a short breath of overwhelming frustration. His mind is teeming with an exasperation that's moments away from splintering his mind to grains. "That's the problem, I can't remember them."

"Then why does it matter?" says Mikasa.

Eren tilts back to look at her. She's studying him with her characteristic, dull gaze that never reveals anything she's thinking. "They're important to me. I need to remember."

"I forget my dreams all the time," remarks Armin. "It's okay if you don't remember. In most cases, that's the way it is. That's just how our brains work."

Eren heaves another unsatisfied sigh. "You guys are missing the point. These dreams mean something. "

"Dreams are dreams, Eren. They don't have any real meaning," Mikasa says, eyes focused out over the courtyard away from him.

"I'm telling you, these dreams are different. They're not like any other dreams I've had before. They feel more like…memories."

"They could be memories," says Armin. "Dreams are sometimes just recollections of past experiences."

"That's the thing, they feel like memories but there's no way they can actually be memories. The world in my dreams is nothing like the real world."

"Hmm…" Armin ponders that, face puckered into a contemplative look for a while, and then he gives a defeated shake of his head. "I'm sorry, Eren. I don't have any logical theories for that."

Sitting straight, Eren perks up a little. "Do you have any _illogical_ ones?"

The smile Armin gives is embarrassed, and his cheeks redden a bit. His eyes drop to his bag lunch that still sits unopened in his lap. He's reluctant as he answers. "Well, you know I don't believe in anything that doesn't have any solid facts behind it, but what you're describing reminds me of karma."

"Karma?"

Hesitantly meeting Eren's eye, Armin nods. "I've read some collections about people who've claimed to revisit past lives through out-of-body experiences during their sleep. And what you're saying is similar to what those people described." When Eren doesn't respond Armin quickly adds, "But that's just superstition, and I don't believe in that sort of thing."

"A past life…?" Eren considers this. It sounds crazy, he knows, but for some reason he doesn't completely reject the idea. He holds onto it in the back of his mind.

Mikasa suddenly stiffens. "A teacher is coming," she warns. "We should get out of here."

Eren is the first on his feet and he pulls Mikasa to a stand. "Let's sneak through the back of the dining hall. No one will see us that way."

It's study hall, but no one actually studies like they should. There's Connie and Sasha, Marco and Jean—Eren doesn't really like Jean, but he's still a part of the circle of friends that Eren keeps, so he puts up with his constant bad attitude. Eren, Mikasa, and Armin sit at their desks. Then, directly at Eren, comes Jean marching. Grabbing hold to the sides of Eren's desk, he scowls at Eren. "Did you sneak off during lunch hour again?" he demands.

Eren looks up at him. "Yeah? Why do you care?"

Jean's eyes dart to Mikasa, but Eren doesn't take notice. Arms folding indignantly over his chest, Jean towers over Eren. "Are you an idiot? You could get in trouble sneaking off like that. And Mikasa and Armin would get in trouble too."

"I don't care. It's not like the school can do much. Leaving the dining hall seems harmless to me."

Jean gives an irritated scoff. "That's not the point, moron. You'll drag Mikasa and Armin down with you. Do you want that?"

Jean pisses Eren off, but there's a part of Eren that hates to admit that he has a point.

"Jean, if they want to skip out during lunch hour, let them," cuts in Marco, clutching Jean's shoulder. "They're not hurting anybody." Throwing Eren a smile, he pointedly rolls his eyes inJean's direction. Even Jean's best friend knows he can be a handful.

"Hey, did you just roll your eyes at me? You asshole."

Marco gives a grin that remains unaffected by Jean's insult. Practically inseparable, wherever one goes the other follows, but Jean and Marco are nothing alike. Eren wonders how they get along so well. With a good sense of humor, Marco is a nice guy, but Jean… he's an asshole who takes things way too seriously. Jean brushes Marco's hand off his shoulder and goes to his seat at the other end of the room.

"He doesn't actually hate you," Marco tells Eren. "He's just jealous."

Eren's brows crease. "Why would he be?"

Marco's eyes deliberately shift to Mikasa, but Eren still doesn't make any connections. Marco quietly smiles. "Never mind."

"Did you have any leftovers today?" Sasha asks Mikasa, automatically taking the desk next to her.

Nodding, Mikasa takes out the last of her lunch. It's half of a sandwich. She pulls it out of the plastic baggy, holding it to Sasha. Her wide eyes brighten in delight. She reaches to grab it, but before she can, Mikasa stuffs the end into her own mouth. Eyes bugging, Sasha's jaw drops in shock. "What! Why would you do that?"

As she chews, Mikasa shrugs. "You eat too much. You'll get an ulcer."

"I will not! My stomach is steel," Sasha argues, her bottom lip jutting in a disheartened pout.

Ignoring her, Mikasa tosses the rest of her uneaten sandwich into the garbage.

"No! You just wasted it!" Sasha wails, her head dejectedly falling against the desk.

Connie leans against the empty desk beside Eren. "Yo, you gonna try out for the basketball team this year?"

Eren shakes his head. "No, I was told that I'm too competitive for school sports." Eren gives the back of his head a dubious scratch. He didn't really get that. How can someone be too competitive when it comes to sports?

"That sucks. You were one of our best players."

Last year, Connie was pretty good at basketball. He isn't very tall but he's quick on his feet, and he somehow manages to slip by the other team's players. "Guess you'll just have to manage without me."

Connie sighs. "Yeah, but without you there that means I'll have to hang with," his expression darkens a fraction, "Jean."

That makes Eren laugh out loud. "Marco will keep him in check."

"He better."

When school is let out for the day, Eren, Mikasa, and Armin leave together as usual.

"See ya tomorrow, Mikasa," calls Jean, red blossoming the tips of his ears as he passes. Marco waves and the two of them walk side-by-side in the opposite direction.

"Jean's a weird guy," comments Eren.

Armin chuckles. "I kind of like him."

"You like everyone."

Then Armin focuses on something behind Eren. Turning, Eren follows Armin's line of sight and sees three juniors walking together through the courtyard—Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie. Eren likes Reiner and Bertholdt. They don't put up with bullshit like bullying. Bertholdt is so tall that no one dares to challenge him anyway, and Reiner is the strongest guy in the school. Only a complete fool would mess with either one of them. As far as Eren can tell, they're down-to-earth and kind.

As for Annie, Armin has been watching her from a distance for a while. Eren doesn't really know what Armin sees in her. Always appearing bored and indifferent, she doesn't seem very interesting to Eren. She's pretty, Eren supposes, but there are plenty of other pretty girls around them. Why would Armin choose Annie?

"Why don't you talk to her, Armin?"

Color rushes to his cheeks, his eyes darting to the ground. "I'm afraid to. She's intimidating."

Eren can agree with that. Annie's icy-blue eyes seem to root straight into people and freeze them to the core. "What if I go with you? Would you talk to her then?"

Armin bites his lip. "I dunno."

"Annie is in my kickboxing class. I could mention your name, if you want," Mikasa offers.

"No, no, it's fine," says Armin. "I'll just keep my distance."

Eren claps him on the back. "Come on, Armin. Have some confidence."

* * *

Going on a jog through downtown every night is routine for Eren. It was recommended that since he can't participate in school sports anymore he still get exercise to release endorphins in his brain…whatever that meant. It's supposed to help reduce his anger or something. In the beginning, he hated having to maintain any kind of routine in his schedule, but soon his evening jogs became something to look forward to. He likes exploring the different parts of downtown, and he even gets so distracted sometimes that he loses track of time and will spend hours wandering.

There's a chill in the air, so Eren is kept cool as he jogs. Passing by some old shops, he turns down an old alley. From the corner of his eye, he notices a man take hold to a woman, jerking on her. "You're hurting me!" she yelps.

Eren stops.

"Shut up! We're leaving." He yanks her toward a car.

"Let go of me!" She thrashes against him, but he doesn't loosen his hold. "I said, let me go!"

In a flash, Eren is there, involving himself in more trouble. "Hey mister, she doesn't want to go with you."

The man snaps in his direction. Tall, with uneven stubble across his chiseled jaw, his eyes are small and beady, and lock on Eren, tapering irritably. "This ain't none of your damn business. Piss off."

"I'm not leaving until you let her go."

A glare that fails to intimidate Eren darkens the man's face. "You talk tough for a little kid. You askin' for a fight?"

Eren's hands clench. "No, but if that's what you want, I won't complain."

The woman frantically shakes her head. "No, it's fine, it's fine," she repeats, as if the second time will make it convincing.

Ignoring her, the muscles lacing Eren's arms twitch in anticipation. The man shoves the woman to the side, and she's sent stumbling, knocking hard against the cemented curb. Instantly, Eren drops down beside her and gently takes her forearm. "Are you okay?"

She nods as she pulls herself into a seated position. Eren glowers up at the man in disgust. "You asshole! You could've really hurt her."

The man shrugs, which pisses Eren off even more. "Bitch deserves it."

Rage fuzzes over Eren's head, and he's on his feet, reeling back a reckless fist in an uppercut. The man stumbles back, but he's big and Eren's punch didn't seem to make much impact. Eren punches him again. It does as much damage as the first. Then Eren is hit across the jaw. He topples backward, his vision blackening for a second.

Regaining his balance, Eren wipes the blood from his lip, but he isn't given much time to recuperate. The man quickly flings another fist. This time Eren ducks, swiftly missing large, gritted knuckles, and knees the man hard in the gut. Eren's knee sinks into a soft, bloated belly, and there's a guttural groan. Suddenly Eren's feet are kicked out from under him, and he's falling. Overconfident and careless, Eren hadn't been expecting the man to recover so quickly and made the mistake of letting down his guard. The back of his head cracks against the concrete. Dazed, he can't move. Soon the man is winding back a powerful leg, hellbent on kicking him in the side.

"Unless you want to be arrested," comes a cool, composed voice, "you'll stop right there."

The man halts mid-swing. "I-It's you," he stammers, sounding fearful.

Climbing to her feet, the woman is back at this man's shoulder. Eren doesn't understand. Didn't she want to get away from that asshole?

"Beating up on a kid? How pitiful can you get?"

The man and woman turn to flee. Even after fighting that guy for her, she runs off with him. Eren can't believe it. He will _never_ understand women. Sighing, Eren turns to face the person who interfered. First his eyes focus on a pair of boots. Then, slowly, they make their way up black jeans, to crossed arms, and lastly a jaded, cold stare.

"You okay, kid?"

Speechless, Eren stares at this man. This is Officer Levi. This is his life's hero.

When Eren doesn't respond, Levi's brows furrow. "Did you get knocked over the head or something? You need a doctor?"

Unfreezing, Eren scrambles to his feet to approach Levi. "No, I'm fine. It's just that you're…" as Eren comes closer he realizes Levi is much shorter than he expected. Eren is quite a bit taller and Eren isn't really all that tall to begin with."…my hero," he finally finishes, having to tilt his head downward to meet Levi's eye.

Arms folded over his chest, Levi scowls up at Eren. "What were you thinking? Taking on that pig yourself was a stupid stunt."

"I wasn't going to just wait around. That woman looked like she needed help."

He clicks his tongue against his teeth. "And look where she is now, right back at his side. Next time, use the brain inside that head of yours and think before you do something reckless."

Eren rubs the back of his head. "Yes, sir."

"You're lucky I'm not actually on duty or I'd have to take you in for fighting."

Eren stares straight into Levi's eyes. They're sharp and pierce through Eren. They're almost nostalgic—he feels like he's seen those eyes before and not just on a television screen. "Have we met before now?"

Levi's small shoulders lurch with an unconcerned shrug. "Maybe we have, maybe we haven't. I don't care to remember faces." Turning on the heel of his boot, he starts walking away.

As if to make a grab for him, Eren extends a hand, but he's too far away, so it hangs in the empty air. "W-Wait, you're leaving?" he splutters. For some reason, the more the distance grows between them, the more intense the emptiness holes its way in Eren's chest... and it's haunting.

Pausing, Levi lazily glances over his shoulder at him. "I'm sure as hell not staying here."

"Where are you going?"

Levi turns his back on Eren. "I fail to see how that's any of your business." He's walking away again, but Eren chases after him and walks by his side.

He looks up at him. "Kid, what's your problem? Go home."

"I would but my mother is probably pissed at me." Eren has been away from the house for too long. She definitely won't be happy, and the fact that he got into another fight will only make it worse.

"Isn't that even more of a reason to go home?"

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Eren watches his feet trudge over gravel. "I'll deal with it later."

"Running from your problems is pathetic," mutters Levi, "And I'm not a babysitter, I have things to do."

"Like what?"

Levi's expression refines into a scowl. "You're a nosy little shit, you know that?"

Eren simply shrugs, waiting expectantly for an answer, but Levi doesn't offer one. Instead, he shoves a hand into his pocket and takes out a pack of cigarettes.

"You smoke?" Eren isn't all that surprised, but Levi seems too controlled and careful for something as unhealthy as smoking.

Picking out a cigarette, Levi fumbles for a lighter in his other pocket before lighting it with a palm cupped over the end. "No, I'm clearing my head," he mutters, the cigarette lodged between his teeth.

"Why isn't it clear?"

Levi exhales, and a puff of smoke is unleashed. "I take that back. I smoke."

"You're just avoiding the question," accuses Eren.

Levi's eyes taper impatiently. "You're walking a thin line, kid. If I were you, I'd go home. It isn't right letting your mother worry about you."

Eren sighs. He knows Levi is right. "Alright, alright. I'll leave you alone. Thanks for the help."

Levi doesn't respond, and Eren heads off. As he leaves, he turns over his shoulder to look at Levi one last time, but he's already gone and the only evidence that he was ever even there are the glowing embers of a neglected cigarette on the asphalt.


	2. Chapter 2

Dread pits in Eren's stomach as he approaches the front door. His mom is going to kill him. He's surprised that she hasn't blown up his phone with frantic, angry calls. Actually, it's really weird that she hadn't called him even once while he was out… and why are the lights in the house off? Groping for his keys in his pocket about to unlock the door, a crash comes from inside. He twists the knob, and his stomach drops when he realizes it's already unlocked. This isn't good. He bursts in, and a group of unfamiliar men have his mom surrounded.

Snapping in his direction, eyes wide with icy terror, she cries, "Eren! Get out of here!"

One of the men grabs her arm and twists it behind her back. "Tell us where it is! NOW!"

She glares up at him. "Never!" Her arm is bent until it cracks, and she screams out.

"Mom!" Eren charges in but before he can even wind back a fist, he's grappled and two men keep him still. He thrashes and jerks against their holds, profanities and angry promises lashing from his tongue. His heart feels like it'll break out of him from how hard it rages inside his chest. If these men don't keep their hands off his mother, he will _kill_ them!

"Tell us where it is, and we won't hurt you or your son."

Her arm shattered at her side, Mom's eyes are red and glassy, but her glare doesn't ease. There is no fear. "I told you, there's no way I'm telling you anything."

Growling in frustration, he seems to believe her. "Fine." He holds a pistol aimed at her face.

Ice water rushes through Eren's veins. "Don't shoot!" he shrieks.

His mom turns to look at him. "Eren, you're strong so don't stop fighting, okay?" and she sounds completely calm and composed even though there's a gun glaring her in the side of the face.

Eren's eyes widen. "Mom!"

The trigger is pulled and a gunshot breaks.

…This is just a dream. No, it's a fucking nightmare. He's just fallen asleep during lunch hour again. He'll wake up any second. This can't be real.

His mom falls. Everything slows. Eren's own breath and heartbeat reverberate piercingly off the walls of his cranium as he watches the slow-motion plummet. It takes minutes, or maybe even hours for her body to finally hit the floor. And when she finally crashes against the wooden floorboards, there's a deafening thud that pierces Eren's ears louder than any gunshot.

Dark red blood pools around her head that lies face down, hair splayed around her like wisps of chestnut threads quickly turning crimson. Her shattered arm is twisted unnaturally behind her back, and she's a motionless crumpled heap. Eren's knees fail, all his strength gone, but the rough grips on his arms keep him suspended in the air.

Then the volatile black wrath that everyone is always trying to get him to control swells to the surface inside him. "I'll fucking _kill_ every single one of you!" he snarls. It's not a threat. It's a promise.

Laughing, they shove Eren into a chair. He wriggles and struggles to get away, but these men are much stronger than he is. His wrists are bound behind him, his ankles tied to the legs of the chair.

"This won't be the last you see of us. This is only the beginning. If your father cooperates, you may just survive." A coarse palm pats his cheek, as if to comfort him.

Eren can't wait to see these guys again, and next time he'll slaughter them all. He'll enjoy ripping them apart piece by piece.

An unforgiving, hateful glare distorts Eren's face, every line and every crack in his features blackened beyond recognition. And the look is so inhuman and disturbing that they all hesitate. Sweat beads at their hairlines, a chill sliding up their spines—it is clear that this kid's intention to kill is very much real. At long last they come to their senses. A fist comes slamming across Eren's temple. Everything goes black.

Eren's jaw aches, his head throbs, and the tang of rust still tinges his tongue.

"…Do you hate me now?"

Eren turns to the person that sits next to him. He meets droopy, silver eyes. Eren shakes his head. "N-No... I understand. The act you put up had to be believable." It hurt, but he doesn't resent this person. This person saved him from that crowd of people who looked at him like he was some sort of monster. He's grateful to this person, if only he could remember who this person is…

"You could've held back some. You knocked out his tooth," remarks Hanji.

Doctor Hanji? What is she doing here?

Eren feels the person sitting next to him shrug. "I'm sure losing a tooth beats getting dissected any day."

Eren agrees. Losing a tooth is much better than being dissected…but why was he going to be dissected? He turns to ask this person who saved him why they would do that, but there's nobody there. He's all alone…

"Kid… Hey, kid. Wake up."

Eren groans. His head pulsates with a sharp ache, and his skull feels heavy on his shoulders. He groans again.

"He needs a medic."

Eren's eyes crack open, and he's face-to-face with strangely familiar, silver eyes.

"Officer Levi?" he cracks. His voice is hoarse, scratching his throat. Eren rubs at his aching temple with a pained hiss. It feels like a balloon is swelling inside his head—his skull is going to rupture at any second.

"What happened?"

Images and faces flash through Eren's mind, then that uncontrollable fury rages within him again. He bounds to his feet, fists clenched tightly. "I'm gonna kill them!" he snarls, sounding more animalistic than human. He bolts to the door, but before he can make it outside, a viselike grip on his arm yanks him back.

"Hold it, you don't even know where those pigs went off to."

Eren jerks, but Levi's hold is steadfast. "Let me go! They'll pay!"

He keeps thrashing and pulling until finally Levi slams him against the wall. Eren hisses. That really didn't help the state of his head.

"Calm down," growls Levi. "I told you to think before you go and do something reckless." His sharp eyes root straight into Eren, immobilizing him.

Breathing heavily, his chest heaving, angry, frustrated tears tug in the backs of Eren's eye sockets. "I can't just do nothing," he rasps.

Levi's composed, cool stare doesn't waver. "For now, that's exactly what you'll do."

Eren glares, his entire body trembling with rage, but Levi's stoic attitude remains. His silver eyes are merciless as they drill into Eren, sucking away all the rage. Eren is left empty on the inside. There is nothing Eren can do… He slumps against the wall in defeat, collapsing to the floor and harshly scraping his backbone against the plaster. He puts his face into his hands, clawing at the sides of his face, as if he could scrape out what happened from his mind. There's nothing he can do… he's never felt so helpless before.

Levi crouches in front of him. "I swear to you, we'll find those pigs." And when Eren doesn't respond, he sternly commands, "Look at me."

Reluctantly, Eren meets Levi's narrowed eyes. They're hard and determined—these eyes…Eren swears he's seen them before. They fill Eren's chest with familiar warmth, and he doesn't have the ability to doubt these eyes.

"You can trust me, Eren."

A jolt is sent through him. "Wait… how do you know my name?"

There is an almost imperceptible flash across Levi's face, but somehow Eren manages to catch it, though he doesn't know what it could possibly mean. "It's my job to know your name."

His mind clouded over, Eren studies Levi. Something about him makes Eren's mind hazy. "I thought you were off duty."

Levi looks away. "I'm never really off duty," he mutters.

"Oh…"

They're quiet for a moment before Levi rises to his feet. He stands over Eren with his arms folded over his chest. "Petra. Take Eren to the station. This isn't your typical murder case. It was organized crime. There's a goal behind it, and we need to figure out what they want."

A small, pretty woman with amber hair and kind, honey eyes appears. She offers Eren a warm smile. "Yes, sir."

Slowly, Eren climbs to a stand. The ambulance already has his mother set on a stretcher enclosed by a bag. He can't watch as they pass. The back of his fist slams into the wall behind him, bits of his flesh rubbing away. Knees shaking, Eren can't hold his weight any longer. But before he can fall, Levi is there, securing Eren's arm around his small shoulders and keeping him on his feet.

"Let's go." He leads Eren out the door.

Eren is breathless and brittle as he mumbles, "The only thing I kept thinking was— if only I had listened to you and returned home sooner, I could've saved her. If only I hadn't run from my problems." This is his fault. His mother's death is his fault…

"You don't know that. No one knows the outcome of the choices they make."

Petra opens the door to the chic, black police car, and Levi helps Eren inside. Once he's settled with the belt strapped across his chest, Levi remains with his head just inside the car. "Eren."

Eren's ears perk. His name coming off Levi's tongue sounds— He looks into Levi's eyes, and those eyes aren't warm or friendly but they aren't unkind either. "I'll find those pigs." He shuts the door, and Eren watches out the window as Levi disappears inside the house.

"Ready, Eren?"

He turns to Petra. "As ready as I'll ever be."

* * *

"Eren!" Long arms fling around him and hold him.

"Doctor Hanji?" He didn't expect her to be here, especially at this hour. "What are you doing here?"

Hanji's arms fall slack at her sides, and she takes the seat next to him. "I work for the police. They call me in to speak with victims before they're debriefed as a safety procedure."

"Oh."

Her eyes uncharacteristically moist, she looks at him. "How are you dealing?"

He stares at his hands in his lap. Unable to feel anything at all as if anesthetized, his mind is in shock. He doesn't even cry. "I don't know…"

Hanji takes his hand between her warm palms. "Don't worry, I promise we'll figure things out."

The door to the interrogation room opens, and a man enters. With steel in his hardened eyes and a jaw strongly defined, he is tall, and there is an authoritative air about him intimidates Eren a bit.

"Hello, Eren Jaeger. I'm Erwin Smith, the chief of the police force here." He extends a calloused hand, and Eren shakes it.

"Hello…"

Sitting at the other side of the interrogation table, Erwin folds his hands under his chin. First, he addresses Hanji. "Is his condition stable enough for questioning?"

"I believe so."

After receiving the acceptable answer, Erwin regards Eren. "I know what you've just been through is traumatic, and if you need time, I understand."

"No, I want you guys to catch those bastards as soon as possible."

"Of course. Do you know why those men attacked your mother?"

"They said something about my father, and they were looking for something, but I don't know what."

Erwin takes out a fat file of some kind. Thick with papers in triplicates spilling out, it has his father's name on it. Erwin's steel eyes scan over it as he speaks. "Your father is a scientist working in developing biological weaponry. It's safe to assume they were looking for some kind of secret he holds."

Eren swallows nervously. His fingers rise to his neck where a key hangs at his throat.

Erwin eyes him. "What is that?"

"It's the key to my father's lab…"

Erwin's steel eyes widen a fraction in surprise. "He gave that to you?"

Nodding, Eren slips it back under his shirt, shielding it from sight. "He gave it to me when I was a kid."

Erwin closes the file with a snap. "This changes things. You need to be kept safe. Those men will target you again, and if they find out you have this key, that'll be more than problematic. You'll need to be protected twenty-four seven."

"What are you saying?"

"One of our officers will keep you hidden."

Eren stiffens. He doesn't like the thought of staying in a complete stranger's home, and he really doesn't like the thought of being a burden on anyone. "I don't want to be a bother."

"It's in their job description. Follow me."

Erwin rises, and Eren follows him out. Hanji doesn't, and Eren wants her to be with him— she's the only person here that he's familiar with. His eyes linger on her as he walks farther away.

They go through a corridor into a room with countless offices. Inside, men and women in uniforms are chatting and working. When they see Erwin they all fall silent.

"I need the special operations squad to meet me in the conference room," he announces.

A small group of people appears, and Petra is among this crowd.

"What is it, Chief?" a tall man, with a blonde ponytail asks.

"I'll brief you in a moment."

Once they're situated in a soundproof room, Erwin begins. "Eren, meet Eld, Oluo, Gunther, and Petra."

Scanning the faces of the people sitting along the table, Eren receives welcoming smiles.

"This is our special operations squad, they only take on our most important cases. There's one other man missing but I'm sure he'll be here soon." Erwin speaks to the squad. "Eren Jaeger will have to be put under the custody of one of you."

Immediately, Petra pipes in. "I'd be glad to take him in."

Eren relaxes. Petra seems nice, and he feels comfortable enough around her.

"How do you feel about that, Eren? Will you be okay living with Petra for a while?"

Eren is quiet while he considers this. It's not that he doesn't like Petra, but he would feel out of sorts staying with someone he just met. "I—" The door opening cuts him off, and they all turn.

"Levi," welcomes Erwin.

Casually striding in, Levi slings himself into the chair next to Erwin, lazily draping an over the back, eyes diverted to the side at nothing in particular. "I couldn't find those bastards after all."

"You'll find them, you always do," says Eld.

"Petra has just agreed to let Eren stay with her until we find the men who targeted Carla Jaeger," Erwin informs him.

"So one of us will have to guard him until they're caught."

"That's right. What do you think, Eren?"

As all of their eyes land on him, Eren stiffens uncomfortably. "I don't mind staying with Petra, but…" Eren glances at Levi, but he's the only person not looking at him. His stare is still fixed on nothing.

Erwin notices Eren's shift in focus. "Would you prefer to stay with Levi?"

At that Levi's head snaps toward Erwin. "No. He's not staying with me."

Erwin's lips are a line as he deliberates. "Actually, I think that's the best option. You're our finest officer, and Eren needs the best protection. He's our utmost priority."

Challengingly, Levi narrows his eyes. "I said no."

Eren cuts in. "It's okay! I can stay with Petra. I don't mind." He's ignored.

"Levi. You're going to protect Eren. That's an order." Erwin is resolute.

Teeth clenching, Levi rises to his feet. "Erwin." His tone is biting. "My job is to lock up criminals, not babysit brats."

"Your job is to protect this city's citizens."

Glaring threateningly at Erwin for a long time, the look on Levi's face is severe and harsh. Internally, Eren squirms, but Erwin meets his stare, not a single crack showing.

"Everyone leave us for a second," commands Levi.

The rest of the special operations squad stand, filing out, and Petra squeezes Eren's shoulder in a gesture for him to follow. "Come on, Eren. They just need to talk it out."

Eren feels guilty. He doesn't want Erwin to force Levi to guard him. That's unfair to Levi. "I don't mind staying with you. Officer Levi doesn't need to take care of me if he doesn't want to."

Petra smiles reassuringly. "Don't worry. They'll work out everything."

Just outside the door, Eren leans against the wall, alone. The rest of the squad returned to their offices. The door is opened a sliver, and Eren can still hear their voices inside. Leaning a little closer, he listens in on what they're saying.

"Erwin, don't force that brat on me," comes Levi's low voice. "I don't want him anywhere near me."

Those words hit Eren like a physical blow. It hurts. Why does it sound like Levi hates him? He doesn't even know Eren. How can he dislike him so much?

"It's the best course of action," says Erwin. "You're the only one I trust to protect him."

"No."

"You will," Erwin draws with his superior authority.

There's a loud crash that makes Eren jump. Levi is really angry…

"If he's around me, I don't know what will happen."

The more Eren hears, the more disappointed he becomes. His life's hero is turning out to be a real asshole.

"I think you know very well what will happen."

There's a short pause, but something has changed. "Then don't do this." The anger from Levi's tone is gone. He sounds almost pleading. He hates Eren so much that he'll beg to keep Eren away from him?

"Levi…"

Eren can't take anymore. Blood simmering, Eren bursts into the room. Both Levi and Erwin whirl in his direction.

Eren frowns at Levi. "Why do you hate me?"

Unsmiling and silent, Levi stares at Eren. "That's not it." He sighs, and his silvery eyes harden. "But if I take you in, you have to listen to what I say, understand? I'm not going to act as a replacement parent for you. I'm your guard. Nothing more."

Eren nods. "Understood."

* * *

Levi's apartment is pretty nice. It's pristinely clean, and there isn't much stuff on the inside. No pictures or decorations. It's plain. Maybe a little lonely too. Eren wonders if Levi has any family or if his job is the only thing he has.

There is a single bedroom, a single bathroom, and a living area. Eren lies on the futon in the living area. It isn't uncomfortable, but he misses his own bed and he misses his mother… Curling up on his side, his mind is awake from shock. Finally he lets the tears fall. He had kept them back for too long. Like a floodgate has broke open, he can't control the sobs that shake him. As best as he can, he tries to muffle them into a pillow. It soaks up his tears and probably his snot too. He tugs the blankets high over his head.

His body feels like it's being crushed by the emptiness inside him. He thinks he can feel his ribs crunch into his lungs and his heart tear. It's too much. His arm runs under his nose and over his eyes, wiping away the seeped out tears and snot before he props himself on his elbows. Reaching over to his bag that sits beside the futon, he fumbles through it and his fingers enclose around an unfortunately familiar bottle. If these pills can numb his anger…maybe they can numb the other feelings too.

He pops a few in his mouth and dry swallows them. They scratch his throat unpleasantly, and he lies back down. For a while, can't he forget everything? Just for a while? Please? He shuts his eyes. Sleeping has been his recent fear, but in this moment all he wants is to sleep and to dream. He wants to see that person again. He aches to see that person. That person is the only thing that can fill the gaping hole in his chest. That hole is about to swallow him up. His thoughts fading, his pain is temporarily forgotten…

"Eren."

Something tickles his scalp, and he looks up. The person—the person that fills his chest is here. Fingers gently run through Eren's hair.

Smiling, he doesn't know what he had been so upset about earlier. He wraps his arms around a small body, burrowing his face into a neck. "You're here."

Familiar and strong, arms wind around Eren, holding him close. Eren doesn't want these arms to let him go. "I may be cold, but I'm not heartless."

Eren presses his lips against the side of a neck, and the body under his arms swells with a deep breath. Eren breathes in a familiar soapy, clean scent coming from this person, and his eyes fall shut in contentment.

"Don't leave," whispers Eren. As long as this person is here with him, he'll be okay. He needs this person to always be by his side, even if it's only in his dreams.

Too soon, the arms unravel from around him, and a scarred finger tucks under Eren's chin. Eren's eyes are pulled to a silver gaze.

The voice is quiet and maybe a little broken. "Don't remember me."

"But—" He wants to remember. He'll do anything to remember. Tilting closer, Eren presses his mouth against warm lips that make his heart ache.

"Wake up. I made breakfast."

"…Hmm?" Eren sits up.

Looking more like a housewife that his own mother ever did, Levi is in the kitchen, a cloth tied around his hair and an apron strung around his waist. Eren has to suppress the fit of laughter building in his chest. The aroma of freshly cooked food wafts in the air, making Eren's mouth water as a physiological response. Hopping out of bed, Eren's feet lead him to the kitchen. He hadn't realized, but yesterday he didn't eat much. Now he's paying for it. He's starving.

"What did you make?" Looking over Levi's shoulder, Eren can just barely make out the shape of eggs burnt into black char.

"Umm…" How has Levi survived this long? If this is the way he eats on a daily basis, he's lucky he hasn't died from food poisoning. "Do you want me to cook next time?"

"Why? Think I can't cook?" he demands. "Be grateful I'm even feeding you, you little shit."

Eren chuckles and surprises himself with it. It feels nice to laugh. The pressure in his chest eases a little. "Thanks."

Levi hands him the plate, and Eren picks at the inedible food. It doesn't taste much better than it looks, but he's grateful Levi would go through the trouble of making him breakfast. After he washes it down with a much better tasting glass of orange juice, he sticks the dish in the dishwasher.

"Wait, take that out," says Levi. "I hand wash my dishes."

"The dishwasher is just as good as hand washing, probably better." And it's less work for Eren.

"You live in my place now. You have to obey my rules."

Eren gives in. "Yes, sir." He turns on the faucet, takes the sponge placed strategically at the head of the sink, and begins scrubbing at them.

Levi interrupts again. "You're doing it wrong." Quickly slipping on the yellow dish gloves dangling near Eren's head, he snatches the sponge from Eren's hand. "You have to scrub them clockwise first, then counterclockwise for good measure."

Eren snorts. "You're really precise with your cleaning…"

"Don't complain."

"I'm not."

Levi finishes and dries them off. Reaching to a cabinet that's a little high for him, Levi stretches to his toes. Effortlessly, Eren reaches over and pulls it open.

"I had it," mutters Levi.

Eren grins, taking the dish from out of his hand, and places it inside. "I know."

Levi is cornered between the counter and Eren, and for some reason Eren is becoming increasingly aware of this. His face is so close to the back of Levi's head that he can smell the soapy, clean scent coming from his hair. Why is that scent nostalgic…? Drawn closer, Eren breathes it in. Something pricks in his murky mind, but before he has a chance to see it clearly, it's gone.

Levi turns to face Eren and looks up. "I would tell you that you don't need to go to school for a few days to give you time to adjust, but the safest place for you right now is school."

Eren steps back. "Right. I'll get ready."

Carelessly searching through his bag for his clothes, Eren picks out an old sweater and jeans. He peels his shirt over his head and stuffs it back into his bag. Suddenly, the hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end— the feeling of eyes watching him. He glances over his shoulder.

Levi's eyes are on him, staring, then they hastily dart away. "You can use the bathroom to dress, you know."

Not sure how to react to a man peeping at him, Eren uncertainly nods his head. "Right…"

As soon as he is dressed, they head out the door. Hastily snatching his bag, Eren hurries after Levi. Another stroke of bad luck, he didn't notice that his bag was unzipped. Papers and pens spill out, littering the floor.

"Dammit." He drops down, quickly picking it up.

Unexpectedly, another pair of hands appears. Levi helps pick up Eren's books, then pauses. He fingers the orange bottle that has fallen out, rolling it over in his hands. "What is this? Meds?" His eyes flick to Eren. "You crazy or something?"

"No!" Eren snaps. "The doctor just thinks I have an anger issue."

"Should I be worried you'll suddenly flip shit on me?"

Eren scowls. Maybe Levi really is an asshole. Seizing the bottle from Levi's hand, Eren stuffs it into his bag. "Let's go."

He stands and heads to the door, but Levi is still in a crouch even after Eren opens it. A distant look is in Levi's eye as he slowly rises to his feet to pass Eren by.

* * *

Eren really wishes they would stop staring at him. And the pity in their eyes only makes him angry. He gets it. They feel bad for him. They want to comfort him, but he wants everything to go back to normal, to how things were before. Even Jean is being nice to him and he wants Jean to be the asshole that pisses him off each day.

Eventually, he slips away, resorting to a lunch hour in solitude. Beneath a tree in the courtyard, Eren props against the trunk. Even the sky seems to pity him—it's overcast and grey. It looks like it'll cry for him. Eren sighs, eyes closing. Dreaming is better than facing the real world…

This time Eren is riding a horse, fleeing from something or someone. An adrenaline rush fuels him, but he's not afraid for his own life. He's afraid for the lives around him. These people that are riding alongside him— he can save them, he knows that he can. His hand rises to his mouth about to bite down.

"Eren! Please, trust us!"

Eren hesitates. Trust them? He looks over and sees honey colored eyes. This woman is pleading with him. She doesn't want him to bite down on his hand. And this woman…isn't she Officer Petra? Another voice breaks in, coming from in front of Eren. This voice is calm and collected, and Eren hangs on to each word like a lifeline.

"You're not wrong. Relying on your own strength or relying on your comrades, I could never advise you on something like that. We make the choices that we think we'll regret the least."

Those words, that voice…they're familiar, and Eren aches to see this person's face. All he can see is the back of a head with dark hair. Eren doesn't have the ability to doubt this person, because this person takes away that agonizing pressure in his chest. "I'll trust you." _Even though I don't know who you are…_

Something hits Eren's face, and his eyes crack open. Another drop of water lands on his cheek. It's starting to rain. What time is it? He fumbles for his phone. _Shit!_ He overslept. Class has already started. He'll be given a detention slip for sure.

When he slinks into study hall, the teacher frowns at him. "Where have you been until now, Jaeger?"

Eren scratches the back of his head. "I fell asleep in the courtyard."

The teacher's frown deepens. Yeah, Eren will definitely get a detention for this. "I'll let you off the hook this time, but don't let it happen again."

Eren is dumbfounded. Teachers never bypass punishments. Then Eren sees it. Pity in the teacher's eyes. Eren's teeth snap together. Even the teacher feels sorry for Eren. Biting back the anger teeming inside him, Eren sits down in his seat. He glowers indignantly at the wall. He just wants to go home…

* * *

Armin and Mikasa are walking alongside him. School is finally over, and they are quietly chatting about something that Eren isn't paying attention to, lost in his own head.

"…What about you, Eren?"

At his name, Eren's attention is brought back to reality. He looks at Mikasa. "Sorry, what'd you say?"

"Are you going to homecoming?"

Eren groans. "That's this weekend isn't it…?"

Mikasa and Armin nod.

"Do you have a date, Armin? Did you ask Annie?"

Fanatically shaking his head from side to side, color rushes to Armin's face. "N-No. I'll just go with you guys."

Eren smirks. "You're scared."

Armin bites his lip and doesn't deny it.

"I could ask her for you," offers Eren.

Armin shakes his head again. "No, it's okay."

"You're really frustrating me. One of these days, I'm just gonna talk to her without your permission."

Armin's pale-blue eyes widen until Eren thinks they'll bug right out of his skull. "Please don't do that!"

Eren sighs. "Fine. I just wish you'd go for it…"

They fall to silence as they walk along the street. The air is charged with tension. Obviously, Mikasa and Armin have questions for him, but they're too concerned to ask. And… Eren isn't ready to talk about it yet. He might not ever be ready to talk about it. Talking makes it real. A car pulls up beside them, and they hesitate. The door swings open.

Levi sits in the driver's seat. "Get in."

Over his shoulder, Eren waves to Armin and Mikasa. Armin looks shocked, and Mikasa's eyes are narrowed slightly in an expression he doesn't understand. "See you guys later. I'll let you know if I'm going." Then he steps inside and shuts the door.

It's silent, weighing heavily on Eren. It's uncomfortable for him. Levi and Eren are complete strangers who, from now on, will be spending a lot of time together. Eren knows Levi doesn't want to get to know one another on a personal basis, but if they don't, won't the awkwardness continue?

At last the silence is broken, and surprisingly Levi is the one to break it. "Where are you going?" he asks. He doesn't sound particularly interested, but maybe the silence was awkward for him too.

"Homecoming is this weekend." Then Eren wonders if he'll even be allowed to go. Will it be unsafe?

Levi's expression darkens. "This weekend?"

Why does Levi sound annoyed? "Yeah, Saturday night."

"Tch. I'll have to patrol you damn brats."

Eren withholds a chuckle. "What? Watching teenagers isn't your idea of a Saturday night well spent?"

"In my opinion, school dances are just conspiracies the school pulls to suck your wallets clean."

Eren laughs out loud. "You're probably right, but that doesn't lessen the hype."

The car comes to a stop, and Levi turns the key. Eren is surprised. They aren't at Levi's apartment— they're outside Doctor Hanji's office. "What are we doing here?"

Levi doesn't look at him as he replies. "You'll be attending therapy every day for a while."

Eren sucks in a breath. "Every day? But I don't need that." Eren isn't crazy. He's not falling apart. He's fine. He doesn't need therapy, or help, or least of all pity.

"You don't have a choice. It's regulation." Then Levi opens the door, sliding out.

Grunting irritably, Eren does the same. Together they enter Hanji's office. When they step inside, Hanji's eyes brighten behind the lenses of her glasses.

"Hey, you old clean freak!" she greets, a smile stretched from ear-to-ear.

"Four-Eyes," says Levi.

Eren's eyes shift between the two. "You know each other?"

Hanji smiles. "Oh yeah, our friendship goes waaaaay back."

Levi clicks his tongue against his teeth. "Friendship? I don't recall ever agreeing to be friends with you."

"Well, more like partners in crime." Hanji turns to Eren with an unoffended sparkle in her eye. "Don't let his cold attitude fool you. He only says mean things because he cares."

Levi turns a cheek at her. "Get this session over with so we can leave."

"Let's get to it then, Eren."

Eren follows Hanji to the room that he's all too familiar with. He sits down on the couch he's become more acquainted with than he ever wanted to be and leans back with his elbow propped on the armrest like he always does.

"Whatcha wanna talk about today?"

Eren is wordless, surprised that Hanji isn't going to drill him with questions about his mother and how he's coping with her death. "Um. Can we talk about those dreams I've been having?"

Her mouth is a thin line. "Sure. Have you been having more of them?"

Eren nods, his brows furrowing as he tries to remember them. This time there are flickers of images and glimpses of faces. "That person in my dreams…I think it's a man."

"A man? What does he look like?"

Eren shrugs. "Dunno. I can't remember him at all. The person is really strong though, that's why I'm thinking he's a man." What kind of woman could kick him around with enough force to tear his tooth straight from his gum-line?

"And do you know if he's a friend or not?"

"I'm pretty sure he's a friend." Eren might not remember his dreams after he wakes up, but he does remember how his heart feels during the dreams, and his heart feels more complete when he's sleeping than it does when he's awake. It has to be because of that man. There's no other possible reason for it.

"Is there anything else you remember?"

"No… " Eren is silent for a moment as he thinks, and when he continues his voice is quiet, "but the dreams have been clearer. And when I see him the hole in my chest is filled, but at the same time it's painful. I don't know why but it hurts every time I see him."

"It hurts you?"

Eren nods. "The ache that I always feel is intensified. It's almost unbearable, but I don't want him to leave. It hurts to have him near me, but I want him to stay. I need him to…"

Silently, Hanji writes down something on a notepad. Her eyes shift back to him. "Eren, you continue to impress me day by day." She adjusts her glasses, and her intrusive eyes bore into him as if searching for any cracks or faults as she asks, "Have you been taking your medication?"

"…Yeah." He takes the medication like he's supposed to, but he really wishes he didn't have to.

"There are a few things that concern me. People of your temperament retreat into themselves when they are overwhelmed. Not talking about your mother and what happened that night is harmful for you and can cause serious depression and anxiety. I won't push you to talk today, but prepare for tomorrow."

Eren doesn't want to talk about it. He doesn't want to think about it, because if he does—

"I know you won't like this but I'm going to increase your dose by one milligram. It's not because I think you have any issues or because I think you're crazy. It's to help you cope with your current situation."

—If he thinks about it, he will come undone and shatter. "You know what's best," he mumbles. If Hanji wants to numb him until he's nothing but a zombie, he will be okay with that. Being numb is better than feeling too strongly.

"I've written your prescription. Take it to the pharmacy, and they'll get ya all set up."

Taking the slip from her, he stuffs it into his pocket, and they leave the room. He doesn't want Levi to see his new prescription. He'll just be an asshole about it.

Propped against the wall, stare focused on empty space, Levi's face is schooled into an impassive mask. Eren passes him in the direction of the door, and Levi pushes off the wall to follow him out, but a hand on his shoulder stops him.

"Can I speak with you for a moment?" asks Hanji in a low voice.

Eren eyes them curiously.

"Alone," she adds.

"Wait in the car," says Levi, "I'll be there in a minute." He tosses Eren the keys.

Catching them, the curiosity blazing in Eren's eyes peaks. But he does as he's told and gives them privacy.

Halfheartedly, Levi meets Hanji's eye. "What do you want?"

"Are you okay being around him like this?"

"It's not like I have a choice. I have orders to follow."

Hanji frowns and bends lower to his level. Her stare burns his as she says the one thing he fears the most. "He's starting to remember, Levi."

Going rigid, Levi's jaw muscles flex as his teeth gnash together. "No. I'll make sure he never remembers."

Hanji grimaces. "But why? You still—"

"This time will be different. Eren won't suffer like he did before."

Holding Levi's shoulder, Hanji's eyes are affectionate with an entire lifetime of memories and comradeship. And they are also heartbreakingly sad for him. "But you're suffering."

Silver eyes hard and stained with an agony that runs so deep that it should cripple him, Levi ducks out of her hold. "I never want him to remember something like that."

"Levi… I know you don't agree, but you deserve happiness too."

He doesn't respond, leaving without sparing another glance her way. Shoving his hand into his pocket, he searches for the fix that will calm his fraying nerves. When he finds it, he lights up and takes in a mind-numbingly long drag.


	3. Chapter 3

Sweat beads at Eren's hairline as he raggedly, almost desperately breathes. Something has stolen his breath, and his pulse is racing. Why is his stomach burning?

"Have you reached your limit?" a husky voice asks him.

Eren hardens his clutch on two naked hipbones for leverage. "No," he grunts, "I can keep going." Concentrating, Eren moves his hips forward. _Skin-on-skin… warmth… _It's not only his stomach burning, he realizes. Heat has intensely concentrated in his entire lower body. He hungers for more overpowering heat and clutches tighter. He takes a shallow breath, heart pounding his chest. Gliding upward, his hands clasp around a ribcage that swells, then collapses with a deep breath.

"…Eren."

At the sound of his name called in such an erotic way, Eren pleasantly shivers. _Say my name again__…_ Eren ducks his head to the pale back in front of him that's littered with scars and strange blackened marks, pressing his lips to a protruded shoulder blade. His lips delicately ghost a slender neck. He wants to call out this man's name but— "Who are you?" he whispers. The back of the head facing him does little to help Eren remember.

"A memory," is the quiet response.

Desperately holding him in place as if he'll fade away, Eren presses his hand flat to this man's chest. "I'll remember you," he promises.

"What if I don't want you to?"

A gaping part of Eren is missing— remembering is the only way to fill it. "I need to remember."

Slowly, this man shifts to face Eren, but Eren's mind won't let Eren see past those ice eyes that he knows he should recognize. It's as if he's looking through distorted glass making it impossible for him to comprehend what this person looks like.

"Close your eyes."

"I need to see your face," says Eren.

"Trust me."

Reluctantly, Eren does as he's told. Settling on his cheek is a calloused palm. Eren leans into the touch, savoring the feeling of it on his skin. Then he is pulled into a passionate kiss. With his eyes shut, Eren's other senses are heightened. He smells a soapy, clean scent— hears steady breathing— tastes the spice of this man's tongue— and feels the slight dryness of the lips upon his.

Eren devours these dry lips, begging them to repair the fissure inside him. He winds his arms tightly around this man, fingers tangling in short, silky hair. _Who are you?_ Following a neck carved with lean muscle, one of Eren's hands lowers to shoulder blades, his fingertips tracing the ruts of a backbone. Unbreakable— this man is unbreakable, perfectly fitting in Eren's arms. _Why is this so nostalgic… but so empty?_ Something in Eren's chest collapses. Pressure builds in his eyes. _Don't let go…_ But the kiss ends, and the arms around Eren loosen.

Eren starts to open his eyes, but a hand covers them. Hot breath ghosts the tip of his ear. "Don't remember me, Eren," comes a low murmur. "That's an order."

"Wait!" Shooting upright, Eren's chest heaves, sweat dribbling down his face. He hunches over, kneading his throbbing temple.

Another dream… and Eren can't remember it… again. Unhappily sighing, he fists a clump of sheets and slings them over his shoulder. Too awake to fall back asleep, his eyes are pinned open, and he gazes out the sliding glass door. Out over the balcony, other buildings reach high. The sun is just rising, the sky a lighter shade of cerulean. Then he notices Levi standing out there, elbows propped on the railing and a cigarette between his fingers.

Eren swings his legs around the futon and slides his feet into his slippers. When he opens the door, Levi momentarily acknowledges him, then stares off at the sleeping city. Yawning, Eren steps in line with him and leans on the railing. "Early bird gets the worm?"

"Not necessarily," mutters Levi, taking a draw from his cigarette. "Doesn't matter how early a bird is— he'll never catch anything if he can't fly."

"I guess not." Observing Levi from the corner of his eye, Eren hasn't been in such close proximity for longer than a few seconds and he notices features that he hadn't before. Dark in color, deep bags cut under Levi's eyes as if he doesn't get much sleep, and lines carve into the stiff muscles at his mouth from frowning too often. Eren gestures to Levi's cigarette—_"I'm clearing my head"_, Levi had told him. "Your head unclear?"

Levi flicks loose ash. "Probably."

"Why?" asks Eren.

"Who knows."

Levi's cold attitude makes Eren falter. "You know," he says, "if you don't want me here, I can talk to Chief Erwin. Petra didn't seem to mind the idea of taking me in."

"Erwin was right," says Levi. "You're safest under my custody."

"But if you don't want—"

"It's not a matter of what I want," Levi cuts in. "I do what's necessary."

Out of breath like he's been hit, Eren falls back a step. "Right…" Wounded, he goes to retreat indoors. "I'll start breakfast."

But before he has a chance to crestfallenly slink inside, Levi quietly remarks, "You have to live with the consequences of the choices you make."

Suddenly feeling cold, Eren freezes in his steps. "H-Huh…?"

Expression unreadable, Levi turns around to look at him. "You can't runaway."

His mother's face flashes in front of Eren, and he looks away. "I know." He's not avoiding consequences. He just needs more time…

"Good, then," says Levi. His hand rises to his mouth for another drag, and a cloud of smoke leaves his lips.

* * *

Mikasa and Armin won't let Eren out of their sights. _Local Carla Jaeger Murdered in Cold Blood_, the city's most widely read newspaper had been headlined. Eren thought the day directly after that horrific night would be the worst. He was wrong. It's the second day, because now everyone expects answers. The air is filled with speculation and gossip. Even Mikasa and Armin look at him expectantly. Eren knows he can't keep delaying the inevitable. He'll have to talk to them about what happened.

During lunch hour they steal to the courtyard, away from prying eyes. Sitting next to Eren, Armin and Mikasa are silent. They don't even touch their lunches while they stare. Mindlessly picking at blades of grass between his fingers, Eren takes in a deep breath and goes off on a very brief, undetailed explanation of his situation to them.

"So you're staying with Officer Levi?" asks Armin. "What about your father?"

"He disappeared that night. Nobody's seen him since."

"I'm sure he's okay. He's probably in hiding."

Eren hopes Armin is right. Losing both parents—Eren drops the unthinkable thought.

"What's it like living with Officer Levi?" asks Mikasa.

Eren shrugs. "Officer Levi is—" cold, unsociable, and has an inexplicable hatred for Eren— "trustworthy. I trust him." And there's something else. The more Eren is around Levi, the deeper the ache in his chest grows. Being near Levi is painful, and Eren isn't exactly sure why.

She takes his hand. "You don't have to shoulder everything yourself, Eren. Armin and I are here too."

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he coughs to hide his slipping poise. Mikasa's arms wrap around him, and she holds him, which only makes keeping his composure that much harder. Then Armin's arms curl around him too. Months, years, decades—Eren doesn't want to move. He will stay here, sitting like this with Armin and Mikasa forever.

Sucking in a shaky breath, Eren's teeth snap together. Black fury blackens his blood, pumping darkly through his veins. _No—_he doesn't want to sit here with them. What he wants—what he _truly_ wants... is for those bastards who did this to greatly suffer. He wants to _kill_ them.

Beneath his arms, Mikasa twists her shoulders. "I can't breathe."

He hadn't realized that he'd been grasping her too tightly. "Sorry." Their limbs disentangling, he let's her go. "Lunch hour is almost over," he tells them. "We should get back."

When study hall begins so does the excited chatter fixated on the homecoming dance. Eren hears his classmates ask each other about their dates and plans and outfits, but it all goes by unheeded—Eren doesn't care about any of that. All Eren can think about is that person he can't remember. That's all he ever wants to think about. Resting his head on his desk, he shuts his eyes. The more he sleeps, the more he remembers. His mind is beginning to fade into a haze when his name is called. He's thrust back into reality—

"Eren, is Officer Levi picking you up again today?" asks Mikasa.

Eren curls his arms around his chin and nods his head. "Yeah."

"Has he…said anything to you?"

He tilts his head to the side, glancing at her. "Not really. He isn't the talkative type."

"What's he like?"

He inquisitively eyes her. What's with the sudden interest in Levi? "I don't know. Like I said, he isn't chatty."

"Has he done anything weird?"

"Weird how?"

She shrugs. "Just…anything that seems strange."

"Now that you mention it…" Eren drags out, "I think I caught a glimpse of him putting something in my food. He also had some rope and a sharpened butcher's knife lying on the dining table." He narrows his eyes at her. "Think that means something?"

Finding no humor in his sarcasm, she frowns. "I'm worried, Eren."

"Officer Levi is protecting me," he retorts. "He might be reserved, but he's not suspicious."

Her hair falls into her dark eyes. "I don't think that he's suspicious," she mumbles, "but I'm not sure you should be around him."

"I don't have much choice," he sighs, then reaches over and feebly pulls on her muffler. "He took me in, and I'm grateful. I don't have any right to complain."

* * *

Sitting in the school's parking lot is a sleek black car, and a small man stands, idly leant against the driver's side, with a lit cigarette stuck in his mouth. Boldly striding to the passenger side, Mikasa opens the door and slips into the leather seat. For a few minutes, nothing happens. Then the driver's door opens, and Levi joins her.

"What is it?" he mutters.

She doesn't look at him. "You smoke now?"

"Apparently."

"How responsible of you."

He shifts his eyes to her. "You're lecturing me?" It's a genuine question. He wouldn't expect Mikasa to care what he did with his own life, as long as Eren wasn't in it.

"No," she says, "You can make bad decisions that affect no one but yourself all you want. It's Eren that I'm worried about."

"Naturally."

As if the car were in motion, she grips the jutting armrest on the door, her knuckles white. "You shouldn't be the one taking care of him again."

"You think I don't know that?" he mutters. "I'm following orders."

She finally turns her head to look at him directly. Searching his face for the answer that she came for, she studies him closely. "Do you love him?"

Uncomfortably shifting his shoulders, Levi flips his eyes out the windshield. "I remember him, don't I?" he says so quietly that she knows he wishes otherwise.

"Where have you been all this time?" she asks with scalpel-like delicacy. She half-expected Levi to show up one day, sweeping Eren off his feet like the star-crossed lovers they were. But he didn't. "You never came for him."

"I couldn't."

"Because you don't want him remembering…?"

"We were bound to run into each other again," he tells her. "Isn't that the way these things work?"

"Looks like it," she says. She cracks open the door, prepared to leave. "I want you to know that I haven't stopped loving him." Then sending a warning through her eyes, she glances over her shoulder at Levi. "This time… I won't let you hurt him." She slides out the door, but says one last thing before making her leave. "And Captain," she gently murmurs, "smoking is bad for you."

* * *

Eren's hand hangs frozen by the doorknob. Why isn't his hand moving? He has to open it. No… he can't do it. "I'm not feeling so good." Gripping his stomach, Eren performs his most believable ill-sounding moan. "I think I should skip today."

"Hanji said you'd say that." Levi opens Doctor Hanji's looming office door, holding it wide for Eren to pass through. "Get inside, brat. I told you, you can't runaway."

Anxious butterflies flutter in Eren's stomach as he shuffles in. Abnormally edgy, he jumps a little when the door distantly clicks shut behind them. Already Hanji is standing with her arms crossed in the waiting room. "I was beginning to wonder if you were actually going to open the door," she comments.

"He didn't," Levi tells her. "I did."

Unsmiling, she adjusts her glasses. "I see." She nods her head in the direction of her office. "Shall we?"

_Can we not? _"Right, sure. I mean, why not? I'm here so..." he rambles. As if to make sure he won't bolt, she deliberately tails him until they make it to the room. Soundlessly, she closes the door, her hand lingering on the knob, as she waits for Eren to take his spot on the sofa chair. Once his rear is deeply settled, she reclines in her rolling chair.

"Have you spoken to anyone about what happened?" she asks him, getting straight to the point.

"Not really…"

"Not even Levi?"

"Why would I talk to him about that? He's a stranger." He's the very last person Eren would talk to about anything.

"It's his duty to track down the men who attacked you and your mother," she points out. "Anything you tell him will help."

That never crossed Eren's mind. Maybe talking to Levi is a good idea after all… "I haven't said anything," he repeats.

"How are you sleeping in your new setting?"

"Not well," he confesses.

"Have you been keeping active?"

"I forgot."

"Try to maintain your usual schedule." She sighs, folding her fingers under her chin. Then she asks that inevitable, dreadful question. "How are you feeling?"

He picks a speck on the wall to intently stare at. "Fine."

"Are you?"

"Yeah."

"Eren," murmurs Hanji, "it's okay not to be fine. It's okay to be sad, and it's okay to be angry. Losing a parent isn't easy." She shakes her head. "No, that's greatly understated. What I meant is— losing a parent is _unimaginable_. No kid should go a day without his or her parents."

Something inside Eren stirs. "No kid should have to watch his mother get _shot_," he hisses.

"I couldn't agree more," says Hanji, "and Levi will make sure those bastards get what they deserve."

Eren's chest bubbles. "No," he spits between his teeth. "I don't want them locked up."

"What do you mean?"

His fingernails tear at the armrests. "I want them _gone_," he blackly seethes. "_Dead_." Like his mother is.

"I understand—"

At that obvious lie, Eren springs forward in the seat. "_You don't!"_ he shrilly exclaims. "_How would you?_"

Unaffected by his heated outburst, Hanji calmly pushes her glasses to the top of her head. "You're right. I couldn't possibly understand."

What Eren feared the most, what he tried so hard to avoid, the unbearable agony takes hold of him, brutally ripping him to shreds. Doubling over, he grasps his head in his hands, fingers clawing at the back of his skull, as if he could burrow his nails inside and remove everything. The gunshot—the blood—his mother's crumpled body—the guilt… But still, tears don't fall.

_I want them dead. I want them dead,_ his thoughts repeat in a fuming mantra, _they'll die_. No… Eren will kill them. He told them that he would… Right to their faces, he swore that he'd be the one to kill them. Feeling somewhat comforted, Eren then smiles at the thought of it. "I'll kill them," he says disturbingly serene, a gear in his mind snapping out of sequence. "I swear I will." Lifting out of the chair, he trips on his own two feet. He chuckles at his clumsiness. He won't be able to kill anyone if he can't walk straight.

Easily determining Eren's instable mental state for what it is, Hanji also stands. "Eren," she says, her tone low and commanding, "that isn't your job. It's Levi's."

Eren shakes his head. "Officer Levi doesn't kill people," he breezily tells her, as if that was some kind of news. "He locks them up in prison. I don't want that." Awkwardly stumbling, he ambles to the door.

But Hanji blocks him. "Sit back down, Eren. Think for a second."

He blankly blinks at her. "I don't need to think about it. I'm going to kill them."

"What, then?" she questions, with a stern frown, eyes firm. "When you're charged for murder, what will you do?"

Eren gnashes his teeth. "I thought you were on my side!" he roars. "_They're_ the monsters_— NOT ME!_"

Hanji raises her hands, approaching him with delicate care, as if he were a dangerous animal gone rampant. "You're right, Eren. You're not the monster," she agrees. "So don't do anything reckless."

But Eren has finally lost it. Just as Hanji wanted, he's feeling it. And like Levi said, he isn't running. Hotter than boiling water, Eren's blood scalds his veins, and he lets every reaction, every piece of pent up emotion freely tear through him. This is why he was put on pills… Eren feels too strongly, too passionately, too…monstrously—

"I want to _FIGHT!_" he bellows. "I'll make them pay." Instinctively he lifts his right hand to his face, opening his mouth wide. _What am I doing?_ In the back of his mind, he wonders why the hell he'd want to bite himself in this situation. He doesn't have a tendency for self-injury.

Hanji's eyes widen in absolute shock. "_Don't—!_"

The door slams open, then suddenly Levi has Eren up against the wall, his arm twisted behind his back and cheek pressed flat, accidentally slicing it on the drywall. "Calm down," he mutters.

Eren wriggles his shoulders, but Levi's grip is tighter on him, keeping him still. "Let me go!" screams Eren, wildly struggling.

His entire body flush with Eren, Levi jams his leg between Eren's knees, cornering him in place. "Cool it," he says. "That's an order."

"I'll kill them!" snarls Eren. "All of them!"

Then Levi does something that Eren wasn't expecting—he lets him go. Raging heart battering inside him, Eren wheels around. Coolly, Levi stands with his arms folded over his chest, expression wiped clean. "You want to kill them, go ahead," he flatly says. "It's your choice. I won't stop you." Bewildered, Eren can do nothing but stare.

"You can trust me, or you can trust yourself," Levi goes on in that jaded platitude. "Experience is the only difference between you and me." Silent moments pass, and still Eren's mind struggles to catch up with what's happening, his feet plastered to the floor.

"Decide," commands Levi, tone now sharper with impatience. When Eren doesn't say anything, he thrusts a finger at the door. "If you want to kill them yourself— _go_. I'll only chase you down and bring you back."

At last Eren makes his choice. Defeated, he collapses into the sofa chair. Levi continues warily eyeing him. "The life you had before is gone, and you'll never get it back."

"Why would you say it like that?" breaks in Hanji.

At Levi's insensitive words, a sharp pang rips through Eren and intense pressure builds in his eye sockets— "But I know the kind of person you are." Bending his knees, Levi is strangely gentle as he places a finger under Eren's chin, lifting his face. "You'll be fine."

And Eren believes him. He doesn't have the ability to doubt Levi. After holding on for all this time, Eren shatters completely. Without thinking he throws his arms around Levi, forgetting that he's a stranger. The pressure in his eyes brimming, Eren is streaming tears. "Don't let me go." Eren is blubbering nonsense. "Don't let go."

Levi doesn't tell Eren that he isn't in any way holding him—that Eren is clinging, practically strangling him. "..."

Eren violently rocks with sobs against Levi's chest, and while Levi doesn't comfort Eren, he doesn't move away either. Unmoving and silent, he allows Eren to soak his shirt through with hot tears and snot. Then when the violent rocking finally subsides to faint trembling, Levi's fingers brush at the overgrown hair on the back of Eren's neck. "How do you feel?"

Eren's face is burrowed in Levi's saturated shirt. "Drained," he snivels, voice hoarse, hardly a croak.

"Good. I don't think my shirt can handle much more."

Then Eren laughs brokenly, appreciatively, emptily, relieved, and everything in between.

* * *

This session has lasted longer than most, and now that Eren got his emotions out, he sits beside Levi in the sofa chair, and Hanji at her desk.

"You could have held back some," Hanji scolds Levi. "You cut his cheek."

Eren feels Levi's shoulders lurch with an unconcerned shrug. "A small cut beats a gnawed off thumb."

Eren stares at his hands. Why was he going to bite himself anyway?

"I think Eren has made progress today," notes Hanji. "Make sure he keeps a routine, Levi. No skipping meals or exercise."

"Babysitting is what I do."

"And Eren— don't forget to take your medication."

"Yes, ma'am."

After Eren leaves Hanji and Levi for a private conversation, Hanji fiddles with her glasses, thinking. "In the past, Eren used his uncontrollable rage to drive him in his training," she remarks. "He isn't a soldier anymore, so he needs another outlet."

Sitting with his leg crossed over his knee, an arm casually stretched over the back of the chair, Levi asks, "What would you suggest?"

Hanji touches her chin thoughtfully. "He's banned from school athletics for being too aggressive," she says, "but he needs to continue with physical activity. Maybe you can show him what it takes to be law enforcement— maybe some mock drills," she suggests. "He isn't old enough for anything official, but it doesn't have to be serious. It can be like a prep course to whip him into shape." Then she adds, "In your down time, I mean. I know you have a lot on your plate."

"I'll get that old man, Keith, to do it."

Hanji puts her glasses back on, observing Levi through the lenses. "As much as you believe Eren is better off without you, I assure you that he needs your guidance. What happened today is proof of that."

"My guidance? For what—?" he mutters. "How to lose it and go rogue?"

"That isn't your fault, Levi," she says. "You couldn't have known what he'd do in the end. You were only doing what you thought was right."

"But I was wrong." He looks away. "You say Eren needs training. I'll get him training." Abruptly, he changes subject. "He's not crazy, so why are you giving him more shit pills to take?"

"They'll help him control his anger."

"He can control it himself."

"We have types of aid in this life that we didn't have before. We need to take advantage of that."

Levi's fixed scowl deepens. "I'm the one who knows his anger best, and I'm telling you he doesn't need that kind of help. "

Her voice drops. "How can you say that after he…" she trails off.

Levi hardens his eyes. "After he what?" he icily says. "I want to hear you say it." It's silent, so Levi takes that as cue to continue. "As far as I'm concerned, he saved humanity. We owe him everything."

Looking more defeated than he's seen her in a long time, Hanji pushes her glasses to the top of her head and pinches the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, heaving a sigh. "Do you really think things will be different this time?"

"I'll make sure they're different. I won't let him lose control."

She puts her chin in her hand. "I've always trusted you, Levi. I've never once doubted you," she remarks. "But in this life… you aren't as durable. You were born with cracks." Then she pauses, and Levi knows what she's going to say before she says it. "Have you been smoking?"

"Don't go there," he warns her. "You're not my shrink."

"No. I'm your friend." A pause. "What about the drinking?"

"I said drop it."

"Have you been to see Erwin at all?"

That does it. He pushes out of the chair. "We're done here." Stalking out the door, he firmly shuts it behind him.

* * *

Back at the apartment, Eren sits on the edge of Levi's bed. It's the first time he's seen the inside of Levi's bedroom—unsurprisingly it's as lonely and plain as the rest of the apartment. But it smells nice... like soap. Sort of nostalgic... Picking out a small bandage from his mini first-aid kit, Levi rips it open. He peels off the glossy adhesive papers on the back, and gently places it over the superficial cut on Eren's cheek, smoothing it down with his thumb.

Eren brushes the war-wound. "Thanks."

"I suppose I could have held back a little."

"I don't know. I think I needed to be knocked around." Eren was out of control. He needed someone to rough him up a bit and get his head straight.

Levi doesn't say anything to that as he locks the kit and sets it aside. "My words were a little harsh too," he admits.

"You said what I needed to hear." At the time, the words were incredibly painful. They dug bottomless holes like bullet wounds. But they ended up snapping Eren out of his wild fit of rage. Eren smiles. "You know…my mom used to be the one that'd bandage me up." Then his smile wanes into a pained grimace. "I was a brat," he sighs. "I shouldn't have gotten into all those fights. I should've listened to her."

"You weren't wrong," says Levi. "Disobeying your mother wasn't right, but choosing to fight wasn't wrong."

"It wasn't?"

"No, I can't really advise you on that." Levi lazily hunches forward, elbows on his knees. "I've never heard you talk about your mother before."

"Well… we've only just met." So of course Levi hasn't heard Eren talk about his mom.

The way Levi looks at him seems somehow…sad. His ice eyes appear thawed and melted. "What do you mean?" he asks. "We know each other."

Eren jolts in shock, eyes going wide. "We do?"

"Yeah," says Levi, then he holds two fingers, "for two whole days. To me, that feels like two lifetimes."

Eren chuckles. "Is having me around really so bad?"

"Maybe not."

"Thanks," softly murmurs Eren. "And I don't just mean for the bandage." He offers Levi a small but sincere smile. "For everything."

Levi flicks his eyes to the wall. "It's late," he mutters. "You should get to bed."

"You're right." Compliantly, Eren makes his way to the door. "Good night, Officer Levi," he calls before slipping out.

"Yeah…" The door clicks shut. Sighing, Levi falls back onto his pillows, an arm folded behind his head. "…Eren."

* * *

Eren was exhausted. The moment his head hit the pillow he was sound asleep. Sleeping so peacefully that he didn't even dream, a muffled crash from inside the kitchen roughly tears him from it, and he gasps, fully alert. More rummaging comes from the kitchen. _An intruder? _Cautiously, Eren slings himself off the futon, silently tiptoeing closer.

"Goddammit…" comes an irritated hiss.

Eren peeks around the corner. "Officer Levi?"

Messy hair sticking up in various directions, clothes rumpled and disorderly, Levi has his head craned inside the fridge. He doesn't react to Eren's presence.

"Officer Levi," echoes Eren, "what are you doing?"

"That can't be all…" he mumbles.

"All of what?"

Exasperatedly, Levi sloppily rakes a hand through his bedhead. "The booze." He spins around, letting the door fall close behind him. His face is brightly glowing, and he has a burning cigarette in his mouth. Eren hasn't seen Levi smoke indoors before…

"You're drunk—?" Is Eren living with an alcoholic?

"Being drunk implies that I'm incoherent," he says. "That isn't the case." He sounds disappointed, like he wishes the opposite were true. He opens a lower cabinet and takes out a glass bottle of liquor. Checking the label, he nods. "Good enough." He shuffles toward the hall.

Eren catches his small shoulder. "Wait. You shouldn't drink that."

"You sound like that damn four-eyes." He shies from Eren's touch. "You look like shit. Go to bed."

Levi looks ten times worse! —But Eren doesn't say that. Instead he settles for, "What are you doing, Officer Levi?" tone accusing. "You're not actually this irresponsible, are you?"

Levi rolls the bottle over in his hands, avoiding Eren's eye. "I never used to be," he mumbles, his cigarette bobbling in his mouth with each word.

"What happened?"

Between his pointer and middle fingers, Levi removes his smoke to freely speak. "I made the wrong choice," he quietly says. "I'm living with the outcome."

"No…you're avoiding it." Eren snatches the bottle from his hands, only to pointedly shove it back in his face. "This—" says Eren, "is called drinking your sorrows away." Then Eren points to the cigarette in his fingers. "And that's called a bad habit."

Levi's silver eyes freeze over into packed ice, and he coldly gestures to Eren's bag lying by the futon. "How are your shit pills any different?" As if genuinely looking for an answer, Levi gives Eren time to respond, but Eren is at a loss for words. He doesn't have an answer.

"A doctor might prescribe you your pills, but they do what booze and smoking do for me." Levi sucks a drag. "We all have our fix," he mutters. "In this world…we're given the choice to feel… or to numb ourselves. You and I made the same choice." He holds out his hand, empty palm upturned, and halfheartedly Eren surrenders the bottle to him. He can't argue, because Levi is right.

"I used to know which choice was right and wrong…" Deep in thought, Levi studies the bottle. "Guess I'm not as smart I used to be." He shuts his back on Eren, shadows closing in on him as he disappears down the hall.

A half hour passed, and Eren can't sleep. Frantic thoughts about Officer Levi storm his mind. It isn't safe drinking recklessly like that. On repeat, Eren's mind reels with "what should I do?", but he won't settle on a decision. Should he say something? Or should he just sit here? _Knock. Knock. _Eren starts in alarm at the noise. Then he realizes he isn't sitting on the futon anymore— his own hand is raised near his face, and he's standing in front of Levi's bedroom door, the backs of his knuckles slightly itching from lightly tapping them against the wood. Eren's body made the decision for him.

What is he going to say? That Levi shouldn't act recklessly? —Like Eren is one to talk… Maybe Levi won't answer. That would be good —Wait! No, it wouldn't! What if he passed out and needs medical attention? What if Eren is too late? What if—

The door creaks open, and Levi nonchalantly leans against the frame. "What is it?"

"Are you—" Eren never figured out what he was going to say— "...okay?"

Levi props his door wider. By his thigh, in his hand dangles the liquor bottle, unopened. "I'm not an idiot." He holds the bottle to Eren. "Put this back, will you?"

Relief washing through him, Eren readily relieves Levi of it. "Yes, sir." Then he thinks about it. "What made you change your mind?"

Levi impassively blinks at him. "Who knows."

The corner of Eren's mouth curls into a faint smile that feels somehow sad for Levi. "Alright. I'll put this back now." Taking a step to the kitchen, Levi says something that puts a pause in his step.

"I knew the right choice," he mutters, "I just couldn't remember it."

Eren thinks about that. "I…have something I need to remember too."

Levi looks at him strangely. "Remembering isn't always pleasant," he tells him. "Sometimes it's better to let yourself forget." Then he shuts the door.


	4. Chapter 4

Levi could use a smoke, or a drink. Both would be preferable, but he settles for a cup of hot tea instead. There's the inevitable itch… _Just one drink won't hurt_. But he knows exactly how "just one drink" plays out. "Just one drink" turns to "it was only two", turns to "three's not bad", turns to "four or was that five…?", turns to "…goddammit". Hopefully this cup of tea will keep that "just one drink" clockwork from setting in motion.

The itch is strong. It's strongest when Eren isn't around, Levi realized. But last night when Eren caught him in one of his dark moments, the itch had vanished. Saying no and keeping control was easy. But Eren isn't here. And Levi could really use a drink… or a smoke… preferably both… just one won't hurt.

"Your move," offhandedly remarks Erwin.

Levi flicks no particular pawn to the next space. Eren should be here by now. Hanji said she would give him a ride after their session, so where is he? Every minute that Eren isn't with him, Levi grows more and more uneasy. It's Levi's responsibility to protect Eren. They shouldn't be separated. If there's one thing that Levi was quick to figure out, it's that Eren has a talent of getting himself into deep shit, and usually Levi is the one digging him out.

With his hands folded under his chin, Erwin closely analyzes Levi's choice in play as if it had been a tactical move. "Interesting choice," he comments. That grabs Levi's attention, and he double-takes his own pawn, wondering what Erwin is talking about. "I believe you just condemned your queen."

Levi brushes the chessboard aside. "You didn't come here for a game of chess, did you?" Erwin knows Levi hates chess, and the outcome is always the same. Erwin's victory is preordained like Levi's fate was in meeting Eren again.

"No," Erwin gives his drink a swirl, ice sweetly tinkling the glass, "I also came for a drink."

"I'm not your bartender." Levi lazily drapes his arm over the back of his chair, gazing out the balcony. "That's the last of my supply," he mutters.

Erwin gestures to the cup of tea set in front of Levi. "It appeared to me that you weren't going to make use of it."

Levi's only response is a slow sip from his cup.

Finally Erwin stops dancing around the point. "I came for an update on Eren. Has he been seeing Hanji like he should be?"

"Yeah."

"Good," says Erwin. "Let's talk homecoming."

"Aren't you a little old for school dances?"

Erwin disregards that comment and shifts his weight in his seat, twining his fingers under his chin again, and getting to business. "The homecoming dance is an ideal flytrap to ensnare Eren. Every student will be drawn to the dance, unaware of the dangers that loom behind the glamour and euphoria. In other words, Eren will be targeted, and we'll be there the moment they close in. We'll need to patrol undercover, using their same fly-on-the-wall approach," he explains in that commanding way he would use in the past. "Of course, we won't be the flies caught. They will be."

"Wouldn't it be safer for Eren to play hooky?"

"We need him there to draw out the enemy," says Erwin. "It will be their own ploy turned against them."

Levi slowly drinks his tea. "What about the other students?" he points out. "You'll be risking their safety."

"I'm not the one jeopardizing their safety," Erwin tells him. "That would be the ones out for Eren's doing."

"You could cancel the dance," Levi suggests.

"We'll have wasted an opportunity to gain leads."

Levi doesn't argue. "I'll trust you this time," he says like he was actually considering doubting Erwin. But Erwin knows as well as Levi that Levi doesn't question Erwin.

Erwin loses his professionally detached demeanor, melting back into a longtime comrade. "How are you doing, Levi?" he asks. "I know this can't be easy on you."

"And whose fault is that?"

"You're right. I'll shoulder the blame for this one." When Levi doesn't respond, Erwin goes on to say, "But it was the best course of action. You can respect that at least."

Levi leans back in the chair. "Yeah…" he mutters, unsure if respect is the word he would have used.

Erwin takes a rather long gulp from his drink and clears his throat. He pauses before saying, "You can't touch him. Not this time."

Levi might need a drink after all. This whole sober thing isn't all it's cracked up to be. "I'm not an idiot, Erwin."

"I didn't say you were." The silence that fills around them is awkward and heavy with their reluctance to address the subject further. "As long as we're clear…" Erwin finally says, ending the uncomfortable matter there. He drains his drink in a single head-tossed swallow and rises. "I'll let myself out."

Looking out the window, Levi angles away from Erwin and doesn't see that Erwin doesn't let himself out like he said he would. He stays and moves behind Levi, bowing over to speak low in Levi's ear. "I apologize for what happened, Levi."

That's the worst possible thing Erwin could have said to him. "The door is that way," frigidly mutters Levi.

"If I had known—"

Levi abruptly stands, harshly scraping the legs of his chair against the laminate hardwood flooring. He stalks to the door, opening it get-the-hell-out-of-here wide. "Here," he says in utter calm— a warning that Erwin should shut his mouth before calm grows quieter, because then calm gives way to tempest ice, "let me show you out."

Levi's stare could freeze hellfire. It's a good thing Erwin is impervious to the cold. He eases the door from Levi's hand and closes it. "Let me ask you one thing." He doesn't let Levi's frosty attitude deter him and backs Levi between the wall and his broad chest. "Are you waiting for Eren?"

"He's late."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant."

Erwin thinks for a moment. "Maybe you feel that you don't deserve him this time."

Levi locks eyes with Erwin. He wants to deny it. He wants to tell Erwin that Levi _never_ thought he was deserving of Eren. Who could match the fiery passion of Humanity's Miracle? But Levi is silent. Erwin wouldn't understand, and some things are best left unsaid. "You should leave."

"Is that what you want, Levi?"

No, that's not what Levi wants. What Levi wants is for Erwin to give him orders, tell him what to do, because Levi doesn't have the answers, and Erwin always seemed to know. That's why he needs Erwin to—

Erwin ducks his face near Levi's, so close that his breath brushes Levi's skin. His rough, calloused palm rubs Levi's cheek like sandpaper. Erwin's hands are nothing like Eren's gentle, boyish ones. "Is this what you want?"

"Not really." There's another itch, a different kind of itch that Levi feels throughout his entire body. His body aches for something it hasn't felt in this life. And it makes him do something he would never have done in the past— he arcs his head back, stretching for Erwin.

Erwin is too damn tall. Levi feels like he's reaching for the top of a tower— it's uncomfortable for his neck. Even stretched to his toes, his ligaments strain farther than they want to. Levi never felt that way with Eren… Hard, steel eyes focus on Levi's mouth, and Levi imagines that they're not hard or steel. He imagines them intense and smoldering. Slowly, Levi closes his eyes, a single name on his mind—

_Click._ The door is opened, and Levi wheels around to see intense and smoldering eyes gawking him. "S-Sorry!" chokes Eren, ears going red. "I didn't mean— I just— the door—!" he disjointedly splutters, his hands tossed around just as incoherently. "I'll leave." He flies out, not able to get away fast enough.

Mortified, Eren bolts down the hall to the elevator. But he can't run from humiliation. It chases him all the way. He madly smashes the down arrow button and wills the double doors to part. _Ding!_ Eren doesn't wait for the doors to slide open all the way before slipping through. Then he collapses against the back wall, heart hammering. He tears at his chest. Why is it hurting? He didn't run so far that his chest should be cramping. He curls his fingers in his collar, pulling at his shirt as if he could dislodge the shard that seems to be piercing him.

"Eren."

Eren looks up to see Levi halfway inside, one hand keeping the doors from reclosing. "You're… crying."

"What?" Eren looks at himself in the mirror. Tears have gathered in the corners of his eyes. He hastily wipes them away. "Sorry." Suddenly sorry is the only word that he knows. _Sorry… sorry… so sorry…_ It feels like Levi deserves every single sorry Eren has.

"Why would you be?"

"I don't know."

Levi steps inside, letting the doors close them in. And then it's just Levi and Eren. Nobody else. They're the only two people in this world. And Eren is okay with that.

Levi doesn't come any closer. He keeps his distance like there is an invisible force between them. "What you saw…" he slowly mutters, "wasn't what it looked like."

Eren forces a small smile that hurts more than it should. "It's not really my business," he says. "I won't think of you any differently."

"Erwin and I aren't…"

"It's okay." Having a liaison with his boss has to be complicated. If people found out… it would be the start of a steep downward spiral for Levi's career and Erwin's reputation. "I won't say anything."

Levi grimaces. He looks like there's a lot he wants to say as he gazes at Eren, like he wants to tell Eren everything only through his eyes. And maybe it's working, because Eren stares at his eyes, pondering how familiar they are.

Levi takes a step closer. Then Eren imagines him taking another step, and another, until they're toe-to-toe… Levi reaching up, Eren leaning down, faces growing closer… But that's a really weird thought, and then there's that invisible force between them. Levi is stuck too many footsteps away.

Levi opens his mouth to say something, thinks better of it, then shifts his eyes to the side. "Good, then," he mutters.

The doors open, and Levi doesn't move, so neither does Eren. The doors close again, shutting out the world. Levi pushes the button to the seventh floor, and Eren's gut sinks at the elevator's ascent.

Something feels wrong, absent, like when you wear a wristwatch for too long and it becomes a part of you. And once you take it off, there's a false sensation that you're wearing it but you're not— a ghost wristwatch. Eren feels a ghostly absence. It feels like there was something with Eren for so long that it became a part of him and now it's gone, and it feels very, very wrong.

"Officer Levi…" murmurs Eren. He breaks the barrier of the force separating them, and Levi shrinks into the elevator doors as if the force has pushed him back. "I…" _I what? _What did Eren think he was going to say? Was Eren going to tell Levi that he didn't like him being with Erwin? It's not Eren's place to say anything about that.

"You…" _You what? _Eren's tongue is useless!

The doors open to the seventh floor, and Levi is swept outside. He turns his back on Eren. "I called Mikasa," he distantly mutters, starting down the hall, and Eren wants to reach out for him, call out to him, …make him stay in their own little world. "She should be in the lobby soon."

That throws Eren. "Why?" Levi silently glances over his shoulder, locking their eyes, and Eren understands what that look means. "What time should I be back?"

"I'll come get you."

Eren nods. "Understood…" He falls back inside the elevator and slumps against the wall, head limply hanging. As the doors slide close, he looks up and gets a last slivered glimpse of Levi turned over his shoulder, watching Eren disappear. Then the world is shut out. And this time, Eren is alone.

* * *

"Did you clear things up with Eren?" Erwin asks when Levi returns to the flat. He's sitting at the table, contemplating the chessboard again, drink refilled to the rim.

Levi sits and sips tea, swallowing the itches hounding him. "I'm letting him believe what he thinks he saw."

"You know," remarks Erwin, "it's surprising you don't win chess. Sometimes you pull unexpected moves."

Levi looks at Erwin. "Are you saying I'm manipulating Eren?"

"Indeed I am," says Erwin. "Using deception and controlling his emotions to keep him away from you… I didn't realize you were so crafty."

Hunching in his seat, Levi fingers one of the chess pawns. He stares at it in the palm of his hand. Is this the way he's treating Eren? Like a pawn? "Am I wrong?"

"Well that's a difficult question to answer." Erwin takes a mouthful from his drink. "Are you asking if creating distance will keep Eren from remembering? Because my guess is as good as yours." He looks at Levi. "Or are you asking if lying is wrong?"

"When you say it like that… the answer seems clear."

"Does it really?" Erwin folds his hands under his chin. "Eren feels everything too intensely, which made him strong and gave him enough drive to save humanity," he says. "But it also made him vulnerable, crippling him when things turned ugly."

Erwin looks far away as if watching the past play in the distance, but he's really only looking at the peaks of buildings that cut the sky. "Eren isn't soft, we both know that. He's brooding. Failure weighs heavily on his shoulders, and it's not easy for him to recover. If Eren's memories are restored… they'll torment him," he murmurs, bringing to light what Levi dreads the most. "What you're doing— detaching yourself from him, it might keep that from happening." Erwin focuses on Levi, no longer looking to the past. "So no, I don't think you're wrong."

For some reason, that brings no comfort to Levi. "I would do the same," admits Erwin. "But unlike you, I wouldn't be questioning myself. That only makes it harder to do what needs to be done."

* * *

Mikasa's room— Eren knows it as well as his own room. It's tidy and simple, a lot like Levi's apartment, Eren realizes. Supported by the headboard, Eren and Mikasa sit close to one another on the bed, watching a movie playing on the television mounted on her wall. Eren has a bowl of popcorn in his lap and he isn't letting it go to waste. He sloppily licks at the coat of greasy butter on his fingertips, then wipes his spit-fingers on his jeans.

Mikasa shifts and the mattress rocks with her movement. He feels her lay her head on his shoulder. "We're matching for the dance, right?" she asks.

"Depends." Eren didn't go out of his way to buy new clothes. The old vest he already had will make do. "What color's your dress?"

"Black."

"We'll be matching, then."

There's a beat before Mikasa speaks again. "You're thinking about Officer Levi," she states, pointblank, and Eren takes a bullet right in the gut.

"What makes you say that?" he gracelessly sputters.

"You're only this moody when—" She cuts short. "Never mind." She adjusts her head on his shoulder to look at him. "So what happened?"

Eren grimaces. "Officer Levi is sleeping with Chief Erwin." Why is his throat so tight? Is he catching a cold?

"How do you know?"

He has to squeeze his voice out. "I walked in on them kissing."

Mikasa blinks. "That doesn't mean they're sleeping together."

"That's why I'm here," he tells her. "I was disturbing them."

"Did Officer Levi say that?"

Eren exhales in exasperation. "He didn't have to explicitly tell me that was the reason," he snaps, losing patience not with her but with the situation. "It was implied when he kicked me out the door."

"And you're jealous."

There's another bullet to his gut, and Eren sucks in a breath. "What—? Why would I be jealous?"

"You're in love with Officer Levi."

At this rate Mikasa will kill him with her bullet-like remarks. "That joke wasn't funny," growls Eren. He stuffs his hand deep in the overflow of popcorn and grabs a handful, packing salty, buttery pieces in his mouth. "Ehm nah fomo."

"What?"

Eren swallows. "I'm not homo."

"It's not about being homo…" mutters Mikasa. "You think Officer Levi is homo?"

One of the popcorn pieces goes down Eren's esophagus wrong. He chokes. "Of course not! He's just…" _sleeping with a man—_ "not… homo."

"What's your definition of homo, Eren?"

Eren shrugs. "The same as everyone else's."

"By everyone else's definition, a man who is attracted to another man is homo, which would mean," she says, clearly articulating each word in case Eren is too dense to understand, "Levi is homo."

"Wait… Officer Levi is attracted to Chief Erwin?"

"You just said you caught them kissing."

"They were about to," he uncertainly mutters, "But that doesn't mean Officer Levi is attracted to Chief Erwin, does it?"

Mikasa looks at him like he's an idiot. "Yeah, that's usually what that means."

"A kiss is just a kiss," Eren says. "It doesn't have to mean anything."

"A kiss always means something."

"No, it doesn't," he argues. To prove his point, he takes her face and leans in. Her eyes widen in surprise, face blooming red as he places a tactless kiss on her mouth. _It's just Mikasa_, he thinks. He might as well be kissing his sister. Their lips touch only for a moment, and I-told-you-so is already playing in his head, "_See? Nothing"_. But there's not nothing. Something bubbles to the surface deep down in the darkest part of Eren. Mikasa's voice rings in his ears… screaming.

_"Wake up, Eren!"_

_"Eren! Don't—!"_

_"You'll kill him!"_

_"—STOP!"_

Eren jolts apart from her as if he couldn't get far enough away. The bowl goes flying, and it rains popcorn. He drags the back of his wrist over his mouth, wishing he could wipe away that kiss. It feels like he just kissed a hot stove. His lips are raw. They feel like they're blistering red and swelling. "What the hell…"

She touches his hand, and he recoils as if he's been stung. "Eren?"

"What was that?" he gasps. He covers his ears with his hands, squeezing his eyes tight. Her shrieks are echoing loudly in his head.

She grasps his wrists, wrenching his hands from his ears. "What was what?" she demands.

He inhales from the bottom of his stomach. Then, against his body's natural instinct to resist, he takes her face again and kisses her hot-stove mouth. But this time when he puts his mouth on hers, there's nothing. No screams. No hot stove. He kisses her harder, anticipating the excruciating pain and screams. Silence… nothing except their lips awkwardly mashed together. Relief eclipses his former fear, and he retracts. He clears his throat and cracks his delayed I-told-you-so. "See? Nothing." But with the warble in his voice, it's not nearly as convincing as it was in his head.

Mikasa's eyes flutter open, but only halfway. "A-Are you okay?" she stammers, disoriented. "You look pale."

"Yeah, I just…" he rests on the headboard, strangely drained, "don't feel right." He tosses his eyes to the ceiling. There's a ghost still haunting him, a shard twisting in his chest.

"Do you ever have feelings that don't make sense? Like, a sudden wave of sadness or fear or pain without knowing why? As if… you lost something really important to you, but can't remember what it is? Or you miss someone that you've never actually met?" He heaves a deep, shuddering sigh. "Or you screwed up so bad that you hate yourself, but there's nothing you did… or at least nothing that you remember doing." It's not until he hears his words out loud that he knows he's rambling nonsense.

Mikasa is silent, and when Eren flicks his eyes to her face, she looks like she's struggling to hold on to her composure. She pulls her muffler higher on her chin and lowers her eyes. "It was a hypothetical question," he tells her. "Don't take it seriously."

Then, as if gravity has conquered her, she tilts forward, her forehead landing smack-dab in the middle of his chest. "Did I say something wrong…?" he asks. Heat permeates through Eren's shirt, and his stomach upturns. "You're crying!"

Cursing himself for raising dark thoughts, he holds the back of her head and secures his other arm around her shoulders. "It's okay…" he tells her, even though he has no idea what he's okaying. His shirt is starting to stick to his skin as more of her tears seep through. He grits his teeth as that crippling sensation of screwing up skulks to the front of his mind. "I'm sorry," he murmurs on reflex. He's sorry to Mikasa. He's sorry to Levi. He's so, so sorry…

She jerks out of his arms like his words dealt a physical blow. "Don't _ever_ say that!"

Stunned and slack-jawed, he gapes at her. "Say what?"

"Don't apologize." Her voice is hardly louder than an exhaled breath. "For anything."

Eren stares at her, his jaw still a bit slack. He can't keep up with her erratic emotions. _Buuuzzzz. _He jumps as his phone unexpectedly vibrates against his back. He fumbles for it and sees that he's received a text message from Levi. _"I'm outside," _it says. Eren clamps his jaw. "I have to go."

Mikasa pleads him with her eyes for him to stay, but Eren can't. "Don't go back to him…"

"I have to."

But Mikasa persists. "Stay with me, or with Officer Petra… anywhere but with him."

Eren still doesn't understand what Mikasa has against Levi… He tugs on her muffler and flashes a smile. "Don't worry. He's not a bad person." Of that, Eren is sure.

* * *

Eren sneaks peeks at Levi from the passenger seat. Levi doesn't have an unkempt look, and he doesn't have that just-out-of-the-shower smell. He doesn't even have a sexed glow. He looks the same as he did when Eren left.

"We shouldn't be separated," Levi tells him, once the silence has fully-fledged into a heavy cloud so thick that Eren's head throbs.

Eren agrees, although, probably not for the same reasons. "Yes, sir."

Levi sighs. "I know I gave you the impression that your assumption about Erwin and me was on point," he mutters, "but that's not true. And I'm not just saying that to avoid any hitches in my career." He looks at Eren for a second, then back to the road. "Erwin is my comrade," he tells Eren, "but I wouldn't risk my reputation for a creep like him."

Eren chuckles a little, maybe more out of relief than at Levi's snipe at Erwin. "The best cop in the city wouldn't risk his reputation for anyone."

That makes Levi get quieter than he already is. "That's not true, either…" he mouths.

Eren doesn't hear him. "Did you say something?"

Levi keeps driving.


	5. Chapter 5

Eren chose wrong. He should've done something. Because he didn't fight, they're dead now. He can't look away from their ruptured bodies. In a backdrop of limbs and guts and bone, the trees are draped with entrails, blood viscously dripping down the bark like paint. There's so much of it… Glass eyes vacantly stare at the world as if their last cruel moments will forever loop in a hellish nightmare. And Eren is at the beginning of that loop.

The anger swelling in him is too strong. He can't control it. It sears through him from the inside out—he's on fire, and it's because of _her._ Icy blue eyes and blonde hair—_he'll rip her apart! _His hand rises to his mouth. Heat envelopes him completely. Muscle fibers and flesh rip and tear as he rises high, throwing a merciless fist with all of his might at her. He'll _destroy_ her!

Eren bolts straight, hurdling off the futon. Bed sheets moist with his sweat tenaciously cling to his clammy calves and restrain him. He roughly rips free and hurls himself in a death sprint to the bathroom. At the head of the toilet he collapses, upchucking throat-burning stomach acid.

"_Shit…_" Trembling, he wipes away excess fluid with the back of his wrist. It feels like his head is missing from his shoulders. He can't feel it. Eren stumbles to his feet, vision blanking. Knees weak, he has to brace himself on the sink to stand, the edge digging in his flip-flopped gut. He flushes his nausea and makes to wash his hands. He rinses out the lingering sour tang in his mouth, vigorously swishing water, leaving no taste bud unstirred. Then he glances up in the mirror—

He gasps in shock and topples backward, loudly crashing into the wall. Ugly stitches in Eren's skin drag from his eyes like someone has scratched their fingernails down his face, channeling into his flesh. Horrified, he touches the marks with thin-ice caution as if his skin will shatter beneath his fingertips. His hands shake. _What's happening?_

"Eren?"

Eren turns his head to Levi, eyes wide and a finger thrust at the mirror. "My face is—" Eren looks in the mirror. The face staring back at him is a pasty and panic-stricken, teenaged boy, with soaked clumps of hair stuck at his hairline. The stitches are gone. Eren puts his face in his hands and kneads his eye sockets with too much force. He sees violet and black. "I'm losing it."

"…I'll call Hanji."

"No!" Eren instantly protests, then drops his voice. "No… it was only a dream." _It was only a dream… only a dream… not real. _It seems like Eren is in a vacuum pocket all to himself. Every thought echoes off the doming walls of his mind. They taunt him. "I'm fine." _You're not. _"I'm just tired." _You're crazy._

"Would you feel better," Levi mutters uncertainly, "sleeping in my bed?" Eren stares at him, dumbstruck. "Not with me, of course," he then adds, diverting his eyes.

"It's okay. Really, I'm fine." Eren offers a small smile. "Thank you though." Then Eren realizes something. Officer Levi is… kind. How did Eren not see that until now? Realization hits harder. Levi doesn't hate Eren. Maybe it's because Eren is exhausted—both physically and mentally—that the impact fills Eren with so much emotion what is left of his energy drains empty and he wobbles.

But before he can crumple, Levi takes Eren's arm and locks it around his shoulders as he had the night his mother was attacked, the night that set in motion the ripples that landed Eren in Levi's custody. Levi bolsters Eren's unsteady weight as they shuffle to his bedroom. Then, even though Eren declined his offer, Levi carefully settles Eren on his bed.

"Are you sure this is okay?" Eren asks him, eyelids like lead. He can't hold them open a second longer.

Levi's voice is low. "Yeah."

Perhaps if Eren were fully lucid he would have held firmer to his refusal of the too-kind offer, but Eren is on the brink of unconsciousness, and Levi's bed is much more comfortable than the futon. The one word lulls Eren to curl on his side and retreat under the soft sheets. His head is cinderblock-heavy as it sinks in Levi's loose feather-filled pillows, and he breathes deeply. They smell like Levi, and it's a comforting scent. Eren feels safe. He nestles in a pillow and breathes in deeper, mind receding to a place where all unconscious minds go. "Don't… leave…" he mumble-slurs, unaware of what he is saying.

"I never meant to."

"…Hmm?" But Eren's mind has left to a safe and dreamless place.

* * *

In the bathroom, facing the mirror, Eren fingers the buttons of his shirtfront. The boy looking back at him is a familiar face—no stitches, no panic, no pasty skin. Relieved, Eren exhales. He can't be anyone other than his usual self. This is supposed to be a glamorous night. In a few hours, Eren will be dancing with Mikasa and Armin and Connie and Sasha—all of his friends. On this night, Eren doesn't have time to be lost. Tonight, Eren will dance. Tonight, Eren will let himself forget. Tomorrow, however, Eren will again try to remember.

He scans his reflection one last time before opening the bathroom door and striding out, chin high.

"You have a tail," says Levi, somewhere behind him.

"What?" Eren twists over his shoulder. The back of his button-up sticks out his black dress pants. "Oh." He goes to tuck it in, but Levi beats him to it.

Levi's fingertips slip beneath Eren's belt, and Eren stiffens, his heart suddenly fluttering. Eren loops a finger under his collar, loosening it around his neck. "It's warm in here," he tells Levi. The heat is making his head feel fuzzy, like his cranium is wool-packed.

"I'll open a window."

Levi's fingers slide along the small of Eren's back gently, closing on his hips. Eren shivers at his touch, and Levi's hands stop. But Eren doesn't want them to. He wants them to slide farther… and lower… and lower more… "Do you have the heat on?" Eren asks as the wool rubs his cranium with more force.

"No." From behind Eren, Levi reaches around to lightly press the backs of his fingers on Eren's cheek. "Are you feverish?"

"I feel really warm." Actually, Eren feels hot, like his blood is bath water.

"Your temperature seems normal…" Levi drops his hand. "Are you still recovering from your sickness?"

"Maybe…" Eren turns, setting eyes on Levi for the first time since coming out of the bathroom. He ogles. "You're dressed up!" Next to Levi, Eren's appearance is humbled.

Levi is garbed in a dark navy suit, necktie absent, leaving the top button of his shirt casually undone. And Eren doesn't mean to—he really doesn't… but he takes notice of the slim fit and Levi's leanly toned chest hinted under the slight V. His collarbone glimpses, well-defined, and the subtle furrow of his pectorals coquettishly shies beneath the white material. Eren swallows, repressing the need to pull apart the buttons and follow the furrow.

"I told you," mutters Levi, "I have to patrol."

"Yeah, but I thought you'd wear your uniform."

"Not this time."

"Well you look…" Eren clears his throat, sorting through words of charm, "clean," he says, not expecting the huskiness that he hears in his own voice. _Clean? _So much for wit… He uncomfortably clears his throat again.

Levi ponders that, straight-faced, allowing Eren's embarrassment to surge his ears. "You have charm," he finally says.

Eren wants to laugh. Is he being serious, or is he using his _you're-an-idiot_ sarcasm that people often mistake for sincerity? In any case, Eren decides lightheartedly shrugging, "I get that a lot," is the safest reply.

"That right?" mutters Levi, eyeballing Eren from the corner of his eye. "When you're older, perhaps I'll show you real charm."

Eren chokes a laugh that's too much breath. "Ha… Trained through experience?"

"Not really," says Levi. Eren waits for him to elaborate, but he doesn't. He strides to the sofa and tosses Eren the vest draped over the back. "Finish getting ready."

Eren catches his vest and slips his arms through. "Yes, sir."

* * *

Before the dance, Chief Erwin and the special operations squad meet, assembling round Levi's modest dining room table. The flat is just spacy enough to hold the team without it being claustrophobic. But it's teetering on a boundary of slight discomfort. Eren is shoulder-to-shoulder with Levi, who is nonchalantly sloped to the side, and Eren is too conscious of their brushing shoulders to shift a muscle.

"Here is the formation," says Erwin, fanning out a blueprint of the Trost hotel across Levi's dining table. He points at white-inked sketches of the interior. "The special ops team will disperse at each far wall—here, here, and here—while keeping Eren in their sights." His steel eyes run the squad's faces. "You will impersonate school chaperones. Watch and listen for anything out of place." Next, Erwin addresses Levi. "You will lead Eren to higher ground once the enemy makes their appearance. He is not to leave the building. I'm entrusting his absolute safety to you."

"That's reasonable," mutters Levi. Eren's chest swells with gratitude that he knows he will never be able to repay. There is no end to the kindness Officer Levi shows Eren.

Erwin carries on. "The rest of the specials ops will quickly escort students out the back entrance. I want them far from this operation," he tells them. "While students are ushered out of harm's way, I will then intervene with backup and crossfire any attempt of pursuing the students. How dangerous this assault might be, I can only guess. My safest bet is preparing for the worst and hoping that I will have gone to unnecessary extremes."

* * *

Mikasa is already waiting outside when Levi taxi's Eren to her house. She is gowned in a sleek, black dress that shows a little thigh but hides enough to excite imagination. Eren climbs out. Then, in his most chivalrous fashion, he opens the car door for Mikasa, offering his hand in a theatric _ladies-first _sweep. A smile plays around her mouth, and she takes his hand.

"You look nice, Eren."

He beams, guiding her into the backseat. "Not nearly as nice as you." She slides inside, and he brushes the delicate braids in her hair, careful not to disturb them. "You even did your hair. It's pretty." He's pleasantly surprised. As long as he has known Mikasa, this is the first he's seen her dolled up. He teases the muffler mismatching her dress. "But you're still wearing your muffler. It sort of distracts from the whole elegant look."

On reflex, she pulls her muffler higher on her chin. "I'll wear a dress," she quietly tells him, "but I won't take off the muffler."

That makes him laugh, and he shuts the door.

When they near their arrival at the illumined city hotel, where the dance is held, Levi lets them out by the front entrance. Eren climbs out first to act as a proper date and open the door for Mikasa. Once he's outside, Levi directs his eyes at Mikasa through the rearview mirror. "Make sure Eren has a good time," he says.

"I'll do my best." Guilt is heavy on her chest. "But you're the one that he's in love with. He might not remember, but he feels a connection to you. I've seen it."

Levi shifts his eyes. "This time," he murmurs, "I have to keep my distance."

Lifting herself forward near the driver's seat, she takes his hand in a gesture that's comforting, not intimate. "No matter what you do," she quietly tells him, "he'll try to remember because that's who he is." She squeezes his hand. "Neither one of us want to see him in pain… but you don't know what he was like when you were gone. He was an entirely different person. That's why I wonder if the truth will be less painful than never knowing you again."

Levi cringes from her hand. "Are you saying that either way... Eren will suffer?"

Her eyes grow teary. "Yes."

Considering this, he is deep in thought and gazes out the windshield. Then he slowly mutters, "I would rather him hate me… than hate himself."

"He could never hate you."

He locks eyes with her, wanting her to be right but also wanting her to be wrong. The door opens. Mikasa blinks rapidly, drying out her eyes, then she meets Eren's unaware grin.

"Ready?" he asks her, giving her his hand.

She smiles, wishing that, for once, his hand could be hers only. She accepts his hand, because for tonight she will hold onto it for Levi; and then, tomorrow, she will give it back.

* * *

Strobing lights, colors of changing neon, glow in gyrating patterns, hypnotizing and adding to the sense of euphoria intoxicating their minds and bodies. Eren dances at Mikasa's side. They are close, pressed closer by the other warm bodies moving around them. Their legs tangle—her leg inside his, then his leg inside hers. Her dress sidles up, exposing more thigh, and he catches himself looking. He's about to tell her that she should be more careful, when there is a jerk on his shoulder.

"Don't peep at her!" hisses Jean.

"Huh?"

He jabs a finger at Eren's chest. "Treat her right, and I might let you live."

"What are you talking about?" demands Eren defensively, fists clenching.

Behind Jean, appears Marco. He intervenes. "Ignore him," Marco says, with a crooked smile that defuses Eren. Then Marco puts an arm around Jean's shoulders, steering him in a different direction. "Let's get a drink. Sound good?"

Jean shrugs off his arm. "Fine. Whatever."

Mikasa touches Eren's hand. "What was that about?"

Eyes narrowed, Eren shrugs. "Who knows," he growls, annoyed.

Mikasa gives a disarming smile, and the estranging encounter with Jean is gone from Eren's mind. "Everyone looks like they're having a good time," she observes.

"Yeah," he agrees. "Especially Armin."

They both turn to watch Armin dance slow with Annie, his hand seeming to hover rather than settle on her lower back. Eren locks his eyes with him, and shoots him a thumbs-up. _Took him long enough_. Eren's encouragement inspires Armin to place his hand more firmly on her back. Armin smiles heartily, gradually pivoting out of time with the fast-paced music. But Annie doesn't seem to mind.

Eren surveys the other people around them. He sees Connie dancing with Sasha—more like dancing _by_ Sasha. The deep, pounding bass draws out Connie's impressive skills, which she can't match. Ymir unapproachably stands near a quietly smiling Christa, arms crossed, eyeing the crowd with a sharp _you're-all-a-bunch-of-idiots_ stare. And then there is Reiner and Bertholdt off to the side, plastic cups halfway filled of sweet fruit punch clutched in their hands. Eren smiles at all of them, with them, for them. He wouldn't mind dancing forevermore.

He twirls Mikasa into his arms. "Let's make this night last," he says. She holds his hand tighter. They will dance to the end of the world.

But the end of the world looms nearer than Eren knows, watching him from the dark places that the LED lights don't reach. But Levi knows shadow. It doesn't inhibit his senses. They are sharpened as he waits at the fringes of the smoky ballroom, leant against the wall, listening, watching, _ready_.

"Do you think," Petra approaches, temporarily deserting her post, "that the enemy might not show after all?" She wears an open back, royal blue cocktail dress, with her auburn hair loose, and catches the eyes of male students as she passes.

"Erwin is never wrong," Levi tells her. "Don't lower your guard."

She rests on the wall next to him. "They look so happy, don't they?" She appreciates the glowing faces on the dance floor, then drops her eyes. "I hope that—just this once—Chief Erwin is wrong. I don't want their special night ruined."

"Filthy pigs don't wait to attack for a time that's convenient for everyone else," Levi mutters. "That would make our jobs too easy."

"I know… I guess I'm just a little swept up in all the magic." Petra gives a little laugh that sounds thin. "I mean… I don't think I've been this dressed up since my senior prom. I didn't even have a dress hanging in my closet. I had to go out and buy one."

He looks at her, not really understanding what magic she's talking about. What he sees is a bunch of teenagers, with hormones raging uncontrollably. There's nothing magical about that. "I can allow you a brief abandonment of your post," he says, "…if it's to dance." Her eyes brighten, a smile of enchantment filling her face. He then realizes that she misunderstood him and averts his eyes to the wave of students. "I can also allow Oluo to leave his post. Briefly."

"Oh." Crestfallen, her smile twitches. "That's very kind of you, Captain, but I won't lower my guard. I don't want any students hurt, because I decided to waste time on the dance floor."

"These students are in capable hands," he tells her.

That makes her blush a little. "Well, I should get back to my post now."

She turns to leave, but before she is too far away, Levi says, "Don't let your new dress go to waste. It suits you well."

She goes red-faced, staggering a bit and almost colliding with a student living it up just out of her viewpoint. "Y-Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!" Then swaying students close around her, and Levi loses sight.

He switches back to bloodhound mode, keenly observing the area. He's so caught up in checking for anything that shouldn't be part of the crowd, that it takes him a moment to notice that something—or someone—that should be there is missing. _Where's Eren?_

Levi's arms fall limp at his sides, and he pushes from the wall. His eyes darting from face to face, he uneasily searches for intense, smoldering eyes. He breaks through the mass, sifting through the bodies of teens steaming euphoria. Suddenly, there's a hold on his shoulder, and Levi whirls around, on edge—

"Want some?" Eren asks him, offering a red plastic cup to Levi.

Levi relaxes a fraction, but _only_ a fraction. "Is it spiked?"

"No, no," Eren hastily reassures him, "nobody's messed with the punch bowl."

"That's unfortunate." He takes the cup and downs a few gulps. He scrunches his nose. "Disgusting. It's just sugar and water." His teeth unpleasantly tingle with a varnish of dissolved sugar. Holding his breath, he forces another sip, then shoves the half-empty cup back at Eren.

Eren laughs. "I thought that's what fruit punch was—sugar, water, and coloring." He empties the rest. Pink stains his lips, and he sighs a content _ahh! _"It's not so bad."

"It was the worst thing I've ever tasted."

"Okay, it _was_ pretty terrible," Eren admits. "But you drank it anyway," he points out.

Levi doesn't tell Eren that he wanted to share something with him. It didn't matter that it was something as meaningless as a drink of syrupy fruit punch, because even the trivial and meaningless has meaning if Eren is at Levi's side. "You looked like you were having fun," remarks Levi.

"I am. Tonight is—"

For a split-second Eren believes that he's dropped dead. It's black, blindingly so. And Eren's body won't move. Then the screams and shouts commence, and he is jostled as people flounder in the darkness. The lights have shut off, he realizes. He hears tripping feet and the rip of material—floor-length gowns accidentally being trampled on.

And amidst the confusion, Levi takes Eren's wrist. "Let's go." Eren tails Levi, sightless, fully trusting Levi's sure grip as he is systematically piloted to the exit. Wired students file out along with them, forcing their way through. The lights return. The sudden illumination disorients Eren as much as sudden darkness. He has to blink—once—twice—three times before he grasps the situation. Levi is rushing him down an outstretched corridor, with lamps of pale, yellowish lighting leading the way.

Levi releases Eren's wrist and strips his jacket, dropping it to the floor, neglected. Gun holsters strapped around his torso are showcased, and Eren gawps, bug-eyed. "You're armed!"

Levi shoots him a glance. "They're only half measures," he says.

"So you won't shoot?"

"…In best case scenario."

They hasten down the hotel corridor, and Eren's ears perk at the sound of faint footsteps shadowing them. Levi notices too, and they double back to an identical corridor that branches left. He stops outside a door, with a sign that reads, _Custodial_. The sign is disregarded, and Levi flings Eren inside. Cleaning chemicals burn Eren's nostrils. The fumes make his head buoyant. Levi pulls the door close, sparing a peeping gap. Selecting a pistol from the two that he has harnessed, he expertly handles it point down.

"I thought you said they were only half measures!" hisses Eren.

"Half measures until necessary," he evenly returns.

The footsteps are getting closer, their muffled heels growing louder. Levi closes the door completely, and all lighting cuts off. Eren is behind Levi, Levi's back grazing Eren's front. The fumes are intensely concentrated, and Eren suffers mental clarity. He can't think straight. His mind begins to alter.

_Close your eyes,_ the man Eren can't remember had whispered into his ear.

In this darkness, Eren can't discern whether his eyes are open or shut. He is visionless either way, open and shut. And without his eyesight, Eren's other senses are heightened. He breathes in the soapy, clean scent of Levi's hair and winds his arms around him. He can feel Levi's tension, but Levi doesn't move. He doesn't speak. He can't. If he does either, he could expose their position. And Eren _won't_ let go of him. _Never again…_

Again?

Eren's consciousness is clouded. Is he dreaming, or is he awake? He doesn't know. Perhaps he is both. And Levi is the crossroads. He touches Levi's face—ghosts his skin, with feather-light fingertips. Then Eren's ghostly touch progresses to the jut of Levi's top lip, falling to his bottom one.

Levi instinctively parts his lips, warm breath skimming the sensitive tips of Eren's fingers. The hair on the nape of Eren's neck bristle with a shudder. Then Eren wraps his boyish, slender fingers about Levi's chin, drawing his face to the ceiling. In this moment, there is no danger. No barrier. No boundaries. Only Eren. Levi succumbs to the suggestion of Eren's touch, laxly curving his head back.

Eren's gentle grasp on his chin has Levi in place as Eren uses his free hand to trace Levi's throat lengthwise. He follows the base of Levi's neck, riding the hill of his definite collarbone and landing in the valley of his unyielding, steel chest. The subtle furrow that tempted Eren earlier, he now claims.

Eren frantically inhales fumes, high on chemicals, higher on coursing blood flow. Levi's every lean muscle, his every strong plane, Eren's fingertips already know. They do not slow or pause like a first-time. They are confident, moving in on Levi's waist, somehow feeling like they possess this intimate part of Levi. Furnace-like heat emanates from Levi as Eren's hands slide to his belt. The boundary Levi had forgotten is crossed. And before Eren can bring upon ruin, Levi seizes his hand in an urgent, iron grip—a grip so firm Levi's knuckles go taut.

They were in the clear a while back—the footsteps had passed right by, so Levi pushes open the door. He fists Eren's collar in the hand that isn't clasping his loaded gun and smashes Eren to the wall, hard, but maybe not hard enough. "You're out of line," he rasps, voice low. He slits his eyes at Eren, commanding him, ordering him to obey… pleading him to stay a safe distance afar. "Never again will you touch me. Understood?" Eren's eyes passionately smolder, too intense. Levi is glaring right at the sun.

Still in a feverish high, Eren's heart thrums wildly. "No. I don't get it at all," he murmurs. Nothing is making any sense. Eren doesn't know what's real and what isn't. He clutches Levi's shoulders. _Turn away. Turn away. Just turn away._ Eren doesn't turn away. Neither does Levi.

Before he can change his mind, before he can heed Levi's order, Eren forcefully presses his mouth on Levi's. Then he's sucked into an undercurrent of riptide. He drowns, mind going dark. He needs to breathe! Instantly Levi pulls away and knocks him on the wall with a smack, furious. The back of Eren's head hits with enough force to blacken his vision. He spins. Levi clenches his teeth in a deadly, hostile grimace and grasps the back of Eren's head. Eren tenses his neck, because he's seen enough Hitman movies to know. They always grab the head and go for a quick, soundless snapped neck. Levi is going to _murder_ Eren.

Levi opens his mouth like he is going to say something, and Eren squeezes his eyes shut in fear of Levi's wrath. Eren waits. He waits longer. But wrath doesn't come. In its place comes a low, graveled, "_Goddammit…_" Then reality shifts—

Levi is kissing Eren. He draws in Eren, consuming him. And Eren's knees give way. This is just another dream, right?

No. This world is too clear. Levi presses into every part of Eren, feeling him, molding his body tightly to Eren's. And every nerve ending in Eren's body hums to life. He feels Levi at his every grain. Levi is at his fingertips. His arms. His chest. His legs. _Everywhere_. And everywhere Eren is aflame. He trembles. The only thing keeping him from buckling is the force of Levi's chest on him and the solidity of the wall at Eren's back, his body caught between. Levi sweeps against Eren's lips, then Eren hears the crack of Levi's fist angrily connecting with the wall like he passionately hates what he's doing but a greater power has him hexed.

Eren lets Levi in. He begs him in, fingers running feverishly through Levi's hair. And Levi fills Eren's mouth with a familiar spice, stroking Eren's most sensitive spots—spots Eren didn't even know he had—with such expertise and familiarity that it seems Levi was born to kiss Eren, that his life's sole purpose is to kiss Eren. Eren can't hold back his breathy groan as Levi hooks his tongue under his upper lip, softly nipping it with his front teeth. Eren can't even feel ashamed, because Levi doesn't give him a moment to feel anything but pent-up, undisclosed desire surfacing.

There are distant flashes behind Eren's eyelids. Staggered images. Ghost sensations. Someone touches him. Caresses him. Whispers to him. _"Eren…"_ And Eren touches… caresses… whispers back. _"Capt—"_

This kiss is agonizing and powerful and desperate—way far-off from perfection. It is wrecked, tinged with an impossible sorrow. Eren burns. Pleasured, pained tears well up in his eyes. He keeps burning.

He tightens his fingers in Levi's hair, nails raking Levi's scalp as he tries to get closer. Levi makes a sound like a growl and snakes his arm painfully tight around Eren's waist, arching Eren into him. The closer Levi is, the more excruciating the molten flame singeing Eren's veins is. Overwhelmed with agony, Eren breathlessly gasps into Levi's mouth, their lips touching, parted and completely still.

Time pauses for Eren—the world stops rotating on its axis. Eren doesn't open his eyes. He attempts to inhale another breath on Levi's mouth, and Levi deeply breathes with him, his chest expanding on Eren's. Softly, maybe even tentatively, Levi cradles Eren's face. His hand is rough with worldly worn callouses. _His hands. His lips… I know them. I've felt them._ Haunted by emptiness caving inside him, Eren listens to Levi's breathing, relishing the slight dryness of Levi's lips brushing his. Each part of Levi, even his steady heartbeat, is nostalgic. _Who are you?_

"…tain." Eren hears Mikasa's voice from far, far away.

"…aptain!"

_What is she saying?_

"OFFICER LEVI!"

Time springs forward at rapid speed. Levi snaps his head to the side. And Eren collapses to the wall, dizzy, his chest chaotically pumping for air. Mikasa glares at Levi, her hands balled in tight fists at her sides, then she indignantly glowers at the floor as if it has horribly offended her. "Don't forget why you're here," she trills at the abstract carpet.

Levi sharply recoils from Eren as if he's diseased. "Take him to the roof," he commands Mikasa, not looking at Eren. Then he spins around and starts in the opposite direction.

Eren catches his wrist. "Wait!" he huffs, straggling behind the rapid-paced time. "What was that?"

Eren is still diseased, so Levi flinches away. "There's no time." He purposefully strides down the hall, and the distance between him and Eren expands too quickly. Eren can feel the world tilt. Eren can't let him go. He launches a running-first step in a chase of life-and-death, but his arm is snatched.

"Stop," Mikasa orders him. "He told us to head to the roof."

"But I—"

"I know what you're thinking," she quickly says. "You're thinking that you've felt Levi before."

Eren is stunned. "How do you…?"

Now that she has Eren's full attention, he is easier to drag to the stairwell. "You and Levi know each other," she tells him. She glances at him, grim-faced and reluctant. "You were lovers once…"


End file.
